


Rats in the Walls

by SerotoninShift



Category: Motorcity (Cartoon)
Genre: Amputation, Bisexual Character, Body Horror, Child Abuse, Dumbasses, Dysfunctional Family, Facial disfigurment, Gratuitous nudity, Kane REALLY sucks, Loss of Limbs, Mad Science, Mental Health Issues, Mind Manipulation, Mindfuck, Motorcity is pretty dark if you scratch the surface, Multi, Non-consensual surgery mention, Original Character Death(s), Vomit Mention, cloning, implied/referenced child murder
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-17
Updated: 2019-05-12
Packaged: 2019-07-06 20:35:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 26
Words: 66,750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15893661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SerotoninShift/pseuds/SerotoninShift
Summary: Kane had a cloning program. It went about as well as you would expect. Chuck suddenly finds himself caught between two Mikes; one struggling to come to terms with his origins, and the other changed by betrayal and circumstance. The resulting revelations will make the Burners' fight for freedom more urgent then ever, taking them to the darkest edges of Motorcity… and beyond.





	1. Prologue: Six years ago

Mike wakes up. There’s a pain in his head, a fierce pain, unlike anything he’s felt before. He tries to move, to bring his hands to his face, but his arms are strapped down. He’s sitting in a chair like a dentist's chair, his arms are strapped down, and Abraham is standing with his back to him, talking to a trim blonde woman with several screens open in front of her.

“As he’s twelve, his brain is still fairly plastic, so the download is flawless, and somewhat malleable,” she’s saying. “When it’s installed in the body, we should be able to make most of the changes you want.”

“Can you stop the swearing?” Kane asks her. “He has a filthy mouth. And dial up loyalty to the maximum.”

The woman frowns at her screens, long strings of numbers and code scrolling down them. Her eyes flicker inhumanly fast.

“The swearing is no problem,” she says. “But his loyalty levels are already pretty high, I can’t increase those without shifting his personality towards sycophantic. You want his base personality, yes? That’s the whole point of downloading.” She seems irritated.

“Abe?” Mike says hesitantly. Kane turns to him, startled. “Oh,” the woman says, mildly surprised.

“I thought you said he was down for the count,” Kane growls at her. “I don’t want any loose ends!”

“I’ll deal with it,” says the woman levelly. She makes as if to start for the chair. Mike flinches. Kane puts out a hand to stop her, eyes narrow.

“No,” Kane says, “You can go. You have my notes. Just get me a working version by the end of the week.”

“Yes, sir.” She turns on her heel and leaves the room.

“Abe, what’s going on?” Mike says weakly. Kane looms over him, hands behind his back. He looks disappointed, like Mike is something he found stuck to the bottom of his shoe.

“You’re getting an upgrade,” Kane says. “You have potential, Mike, but you’re never going to realize it, the way you are. Deep down, you’re just a little street rat, same as when I found you in the wards. But I’m going to make you _great_. A few tweaks, some bioware, and I’ll have exactly the cadet I want. It just won’t be _you._ It’ll be a better, stronger version of you.”

“I thought… you said I could be a good cadet! What are you _doing_ to me?” Mike struggles against the bonds holding him to the chair, gasps as a stabbing pain jolts through his head.

“It’s already done,” Kane says coldly. “I have everything I need from you.”

Mike’s stomach sinks. But along with the sense of betrayal, there’s also… inevitability. He _knew_ he wasn’t good enough. He’d never _been_ good enough. Too mouthy, too reckless, too impulsive. Kane’s next words sting, but they aren’t a _surprise._

“Danzig,” Kane says contemptuously to one of the Elites standing watch in the corner, “take out the _trash.”_

***

Danzig and another Elite prod him through endless white corridors, his hands bound in front of him. Finally they come to a door in a long, empty hall. When Danzig pulls him up short, Mike stumbles, falls to his knees.

“You can go,” Danzig says. “I’ll take it from here.”

The other Elite seems concerned, though Mike can’t see much of his face. “Um, what did he mean, ‘take out the trash’?”

“I’ll take care of it,” Danzig says. There’s a long pause.

“Dude,” the other Elite says. “He’s just a kid.”

“I’ll _take care of it,”_ Danzig says ominously. “Go back to base. Don’t worry your pretty little head about it.”

“But…”

“GO! Don’t make me tell you again! You wanna get court-martialed? You wanna get _terminated?”_ Danzig yells, brandishing his laser rifle. The other Elite raises his hands, retreats reluctantly, muttering something Mike can’t hear. Once he’s out of sight, Danzig lets out a long breath.

“Okay,” he says. “Okay. Let’s go.” He pokes Mike with the tip of his rifle. Mike refuses to move.

“Just _do it,”_ Mike says, angry and choked with tears. “Just do it right here. You fucking _coward.”_

Danzig laughs, startled. “You’ve got stones, kid,” he says. “I’m not gonna kill you. Let’s go.”

Mike takes a deep, shuddering breath. “You’re not?”

“No. I’m sick of this. I know somewhere you can go. But you have to get up _right now,_ and you have to follow me.”

Mike narrows his eyes. “Why should I trust you?”

Danzig shrugs. “What choice do you have?”

He’s got a point. Danzig turns away from him, unlocks the door, and walks through it, not even looking back to see if Mike is following.

Mike follows.

***

Danzig leads him through a maze of corridors that get progressively more claustrophobic. Finally, they turn a corner into an empty stretch of hallway and Danzig stops. Mike almost bumps into him. He’s been wandering after him in a shocked daze. There’s a grate near the bottom of the wall, coming up to about waist-height. Danzig pulls a multi-tool from his belt, unscrews the grate, tugs it away from the narrow entrance. Then he turns to Mike, flicks a blade out of the multi-tool, deftly cuts the zip-ties holding Mike’s wrists together.

“Take this ventilation shaft,” Danzig says. “The security grid inside is down, for now. My info says it’ll put you out somewhere in the lower levels. There’s people there. It’s the best chance you’ve got.”

“I don’t… I can’t…” Mike whispers. He _hates_ small spaces, they make him feel sick. Danzig shoves him.

“Get going, kid! This is all I can do for you. I’m already risking my neck.” His voice is angry, hard.

Mike stumbles forward, kneels down at the entrance to the tunnel. It’s dark. There’s a strange smell wafting up from somewhere. Mike’s eyes are blurred by tears. He starts crawling, stops halfway into the passageway, looks back. That gets him a boot to the ass which sends him scrambling forward.

“Get _out_ of here!” Danzig yells. “I can’t _stand around,_ you gotta _go!”_

Mike starts crawling in earnest. When he’s all the way into the tunnel, he hears the metallic sound of the grate closing behind him, Danzig turning the screws. The light dims. He makes a small, scared noise, but there’s only one way to go now.

He crawls.

He crawls through the darkness for what might have been hours, or might have been days. His head aches and throbs, tears streak his face, but he keeps going. It’s all he can think to do. His panting breaths echo off the metal walls around him. For stretches of time, he blanks out, comes to not sure which direction he’s going, if he’s heading back the way he came, if he’ll ever reach the end. The passageway twists and turns—he sometimes bumps into walls at a sharp corner—but it doesn’t fork, and it seems to slant downwards gradually. In his moments of lucidity, that reassures him that he’s going the right direction. Occasionally, wind blasts through the tunnel, scouring his back with grit and dust. It pushes him onward, though. That reassures him too. At least once, he thinks he feels something touch him in the darkness and bites back a scream. Sometimes he sings to himself, little snippets of tunes from his earliest memories, just to hear something other than his breathing in the suffocating blackness. But he keeps crawling, until his knees are bloody, until his arms are shaking.

When he sees light, at first he thinks he’s hallucinating. It’s a faint, distant smear. He blinks at it. It keeps being there. As he gets closer, it resolves into a grate, much like the one he entered. He makes an incoherent noise, rushes forward as fast as he can on weak limbs, and presses his face against it, drinking in the light, the glimpses of _something._

This grate is in much worse shape than the grate up in Deluxe. The corner is rusted out, the whole thing is loose. He slams himself against it. It holds. He starts ramming his shoulder into it, over and over, desperate, gasping. The grate finally shakes itself loose with a squeal of rusting metal, and Mike falls out unceremoniously, lands with a splash in a pool of noxious liquid. He coughs, choking on the stink of it, tries to stand, legs weak, and falls again. For a long moment he lies there helplessly in the filth.

Then he gets to his hands and knees. What choice does he have? He looks around.

It’s… beautiful. Towers and columns of glowing mushrooms rise around him, stacked so high he can’t see the tops. They shine with bioluminescence, green and gold and purple. They recede into the distance in a strange forest, cover the wall he came out of. If they’d been growing any lower, over the grate, he would have been trapped. He feels weirdly thankful to the mushrooms for his freedom. He drags himself out of the filthy puddle, and touches one. It’s soft and springy. He nearly cries again. He finds one that’s large enough to accommodate his aching, exhausted body, curls up on it, and sleeps.

***

When he wakes up, there’s a large man kneeling next to him. He’s got leaves decorating his hair, his cheeks and chest are painted in strange patterns, and he’s wearing a gas mask that covers the lower half of his face. Mike bites his lip, doesn’t scream.

“Tough guy,” says the man. “Don’t be scared. I’m not gonna hurt you.”

Mike gives him a dubious look. He’s heard _that_ before. “For real,” says the man. “If I was gonna do something I would have done it while you were sleeping. I didn’t want to wake you. You looked like you needed it. Come on. I’ll take you to Kaia.” He holds out a big hand.

“Who’s Kaia?” Mike says, voice raspy.

“Kaia's our leader. She’s nice. I think you’ll like her.” The man’s eyes crinkle. Mike can tell he’s smiling.

What does he have to lose? He takes the man’s hand, lets him lead the way through the cathedral of mushrooms.

***

They come to a village. It’s unlike anything Mike has ever seen in Deluxe. The buildings are asymmetrical, wild, colorful. It fills Mike with a strange exhilaration, to see things so off-kilter. The large man leads him to a leaf-thatched house in the center of the town, knocks on the door.

“Yes,” says a voice from within.

“Kaia,” the large man calls. “I’ve brought you a visitor.”

The room is dim, lit only by a few strategically placed mushrooms. It’s sparingly furnished. There’s a young woman sitting in a chair, a sheaf of rough paper in one hand. She’s wearing the same kind of gas mask that the large man has on, and her hair is green, a wide, knotted scarf over her forehead holding it back.

“Well, well,” the woman says, looking Mike over, her voice a melodic, double-toned trill. “What have we here? A castaway?” The large man nods, prods Mike gently. He walks forward hesitantly, until he’s right in front of her.

“Who _are_ you guys?” he asks, looking up at her. She’s beautiful, in a strange way.

“We’re the rats in the walls,” she says gently. “We’re _disposable._ It looks like you are, too. Am I right?” She plucks at the collar of his filthy, torn Deluxe uniform. “They threw you away, like a piece of _garbage.”_

Mike feels his eyes start to water again. He nods.

“Don’t worry, child,” she says, holding out her arms. “We’ll take care of you.”

Everything overwhelms Mike at once. He collapses into her, and she holds him close, her mask poking the top of his head, not seeming to care that he’s covered in toxic mud and smells like a sewer.

“We’ll take care of you,” she says again, stroking his matted hair, “you’re one of _us,_ now,” and Mike sobs with relief.

Everything that comes after that is a small price to pay, for _belonging._


	2. The calm before the storm

Chuck wakes up. He immediately pulls his pillow over his head, groaning. He overslept again; he’d stayed up into the early hours of the morning coding, and now he’s groggy and out of it. But he can tell he’s not going to be able to sleep any more. At least he was working on _fun_ stuff for once; things have been pretty quiet since the Genesis pod. He stumbles out of bed, pulls on some sweatpants and a shirt, goes out onto the deck. Jacob isn’t behind the counter at Mutt Dogs, it’s not lunchtime yet, but Chuck goes and sits there anyway, rubbing at his face. Roth buzzes over eventually with a cup of coffee. Chuck smiles, takes a large swallow. It’s perfect, just like every time Dutch makes it.

“Tell Dutch thanks,” he says to Roth. But Roth makes an alarmed beep, startling him. He swivels his barstool around.

There’s a man walking toward him across the deck. He walks with a slight limp. He’s wearing an ancient-looking gas mask that covers his whole head and face, utilitarian black clothes, and a long, army-green jacket that nearly reaches the floor. Chuck gulps. No one usually comes into Mutt Dogs at this time of day. The man stops a few feet away, seems to be staring at him intently. Chuck can almost feel his eyes, even through the mask.

“It’s really true,” the man says. His voice is raspy, muffled. “You really came down here. Holy shit. Chuck. You got a new arm! You look good.”

“Whoa,” Chuck says, a rush of adrenaline making his extremities tingle. “Who are you? Do I know you?” Only people from Deluxe knew him when his left arm ended at the elbow, before R & D.

The man barks out a laugh. It’s a weird sound, echoing itself, almost two-toned. He bites it off when Mike comes through the door to the garage stairs, casually holding a huge wrench in one hand.

“What’s up, man?” Mike says easily. “Who’s this?” Chuck feels a flood of relief.

“Dude, I don’t _know,”_ Chuck says. “He just came up here, and I’ve never seen him before, but he knows who I am!”

“We _are_ kind of famous, buddy,” Mike says. He turns to the man. “So what can we do for you?”

The man is staring fixedly at Mike. For a long moment, he seems frozen. Then he starts laughing again, a strange, raspy, delighted sound.

“Amazing,” he says. “Totally _awesome._ It’s all true! You really defected! Hah! Fuck you, Kane! Not even your home-grown _super-soldier_ would stick around! Man! I’m glad I’m not a total pushover after all.”

“Hey, dude,” Mike says warningly. “What are you talking about? What’s your deal? You can’t just come in here and start hassling us. Take off that mask and show us your face.”

“Well. Okay. There’s not really any other way to do this, I guess,” the man says, and without ceremony pulls the gas mask off.

He has an unruly mop of dark brown hair. He has a knotted scar under his left eye. His mouth is… _really_ messed up, like the Terras, his lips are ragged, his cheeks have patchwork gaps in them that show his teeth. But even with all the damage, Chuck recognizes him. He’d know that face anywhere. He stares at it every day.

It’s Mike Chilton.

Mike, behind him, drops the wrench. It clatters to the floor, making a ringing noise that echoes across the deck.

“What the fffff,” he says.

There’s a long silence. They all stare at each other, the new Terra version of Mike with his head high, Mike and Chuck frozen in shock.

“Mi-i-i-ike?” Chuck says, high-pitched. “What’s going on?” He’s not sure which Mike he’s talking too.

“I don’t know, dude,” his Mike says, fierce and angry. “But I want some answers, right now. Who are you? Is this some kind of Terra _joke?_ Did they… clone me or something? What the _heck?”_

“You really _can’t_ swear,” the new Mike says wonderingly. “I remember him specifying that. But I gotta tell you, dude, I’m stoked you ended up down here after everything he must have stuffed in your head. That’s… that’s really awesome. You _still_ saw through his bullshit. Wow. We’ve got guts, I guess.”

Chuck looks back and forth between the two Mikes, utterly at a loss. His Mike is looking paler by the second. “What are you _talking_ about?” Mike says.

“Dude, I hate to tell you this,” the new Mike says, “but _I’m_ not the clone. You are.”

“N… no?” Mike stutters. “What? That’s crazy, no way.”

“ _Yeah_ way,” new Mike says ruefully. “Haven’t you ever wondered how you got bioware enhancements all over your body? Why you’ve never broken a bone? Why you can’t swear? Why Kane singled you out, groomed you for leadership? He thought he could control you. He thought he could control _us_. I’m glad he was wrong.”

Mike should be protesting, he shouldn’t entertain this madness even for a second, but he seems frozen.

“I… I don’t get it,” Chuck squeaks, confused. Both Mikes look at him, startled, as if they forgot he was even there.

“I didn’t piece it together myself for a long time,” the new Mike says. “But I remember some things, and we did some digging when we heard about Kane’s rising star, who _just happened_ to look exactly like I used to. Kane had a program. He picked out promising kids with no family, no one to realize what he was doing when they changed. He cloned them, grew the new bodies around bioware frameworks, filled them with enhancements. It was much cheaper than surgery, better success rate. And then he downloaded copies of their minds and personalities into the blank slates of their brains, but with… alterations. Sometimes he fucked up, like with Tooley. You change the personality too much, the brain won’t accept it very well. But you… you were his greatest success. When I found out he was going to start sending you down here to do his dirty work, I left the city for awhile. Kaia thought it would be the best move. Kane usually did a better job _disposing_ of the originals, I didn’t want him to find me and put my people in danger, so I went to Cleveland to look for some stuff we needed. But then the Terras met you down here and realized you defected. They sent word. I had to come back. I had to see for myself. Bro, I heard you guys took out the Genesis pod, right before I got here.” He grins. It’s horrible, teeth everywhere. “I can’t believe how _badass_ we are.”

“What… this is _bullcrap,”_ Mike says. “You’re messing with me.”

“Try to say ‘fuck.’”

Mike crosses his arms. “That’s stupid. I don’t want to.”

“Just try it.”

“I won’t.”

“You can’t. You tried earlier, I heard you.”

“I did not!”

“You totally did.”

“That doesn’t _prove_ anything.”

Chuck is starting to feel a little faint. His stomach does an ominous somersault. He puts his hands on his knees, leans over, sucks in a wheezing breath.

Both Mikes turn to look at him. “You okay, dude?” they say in perfect, concerned unison.

Chuck vomits up his coffee.

***

“I’m not saying I believe you,” regular Mike says. “But it could maybe… _maybe…_ explain some things.” He’s adjusting a pillow under Chuck’s head; Chuck is lying on the sofa. Other Mike is hovering, looking worried, as much as Chuck can read the mess of his face. Chuck is mortified. He thought having _one_ Mike fussing over him was embarrassing; now he’s got _two._

“You _think?”_ other Mike says. Regular Mike glares at him.

“Give me a break, dude. This is kind of a lot.” He gestures at Chuck. Chuck flushes. He _hates_ this, he hates it when he’s the _weak_ one. But other Mike is looking at him regretfully, says, “Sorry. I guess I kind of sprung it on you guys. There’s really no easy way to say something like that.” Then he rallies, slams a fist into his open palm. “But now that you know… man! This is great! We can team up! You all wanna take down Kane, right? So do I! And so do the Terra-dwellers! We can join forces!”

“Um, I don’t think so,” Mike says sourly. “We’re not exactly on good terms with the Terras.”

“What? What happened while I was gone?”

“Not much, just Kaia trying to kill a bunch of innocent Deluxians with monster vines!” Mike says angrily. Other Mike stares at him, astonished.

“Dude. Kaia's got some weird ideas lately, but she wouldn't do that,” he says.

“It’s true,” Chuck says weakly. “I was there. Then she tried to pull down the keystone. She could have killed us _all.”_

Other Mike stares at him for a long, stunned moment.

“Shit!” he exclaims finally, voice doubling eerily. “Shit, shit, shit! She’s getting worse. Goddammit!” Chuck flinches. It’s _so weird_ to have another version of Mike standing there _swearing,_ a feral, creepy version of his best friend. Other Mike picks up his gas mask.

“Guys, I gotta go,” he says. “I gotta talk to her. To all of them. I’ll take care of this. She’s _not_ okay, but I didn’t realize… shit! I can’t believe they actually followed her orders… _fuck._ I came straight here, I didn’t even go check in. I gotta go.”

“Hold on,” Mike says, raising a hand. “I have some questions.”

“I know,” other Mike says regretfully. “I’ll come back in a few days. Keep holding down the fort, okay? You guys are awesome.”

“Wha…” Regular Mike seems stunned. “You can’t just… leave!”

“ _Watch_ me. Sorry, dude.” Other Mike strides purposefully out of the living room and onto the deck, leaps off the edge, and in midair fires some sort of tendril out of a crossbow-like object suddenly in his hand. The tendril connects to a balcony in the surrounding walls, shrinks rapidly, and propels him through a crazy swinging flip that clears the whole garage floor. Mike somersaults across the balcony railing as he lands, leaps up running. He fires the tendril again and disappears out an outside window.

Regular Mike just stands there, staring after him, looking absolutely poleaxed. Chuck gets off the couch, shuffles up behind Mike and puts a hand on his shoulder.

“Now you know how _I_ feel when you pull this crap,” he says ruefully.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to BirchBow (chaoticTenebrism) for letting me use their headcannons about Kaia for this story.


	3. Head in the sand

“You’re telling me,” Texas says angrily, “that there was an evil Terra Mike this _whole time?_ And I didn’t even get to _see_ him? Or punch his ugly face?”  
  
“He’s not _evil,”_ Chuck says, rolling his eyes. Then he pauses. “I don’t _think?_ And he’s been in Cleveland, apparently. Which is also crazy, but, whatever.”  
  
“Ha! Cleveland! A likely story! But ch _yeah_ , that’s probably where people go if they don’t want to get punched by TEXAS!”  
  
Julie looks frustrated. She’s on a video call from Deluxe. “I’ve never seen _anything_ about clones in Kane’s files, and I’ve been digging around in them for _years._ This is probably some weird Terra thing that has nothing to do with Kane.”  
  
“You didn’t see him, Julie,” Mike says. He seems shaken. “He looked _exactly_ like me, except for the Terra mutations. He talked like me, except he swore a lot and his voice was messed up. He had the same mannerisms. It was _weird.”_  
  
“Yeah. Super freaky,” Chuck agrees. Something tugs at his memory. “He said…” He snaps his fingers. “He said Tooley was part of it! That Kane messed him up somehow. Maybe you can poke around in Tooley’s files, see if anything pops up there.”  
  
Julie wrinkles her nose. “Ugh. That’s the _last_ thing I want to do. But okay, if it’ll put your mind at ease.”  
  
Mike leans forward, intent. “Be careful, Jules. If this is real, Kane buried it _deep.”_  
  
Julie scoffs at him. “I know how to sneak. Don’t worry about me, cowboy. And don’t worry about this guy’s story. It sounds too crazy, even for Kane.”  
  
Mike looks doubtful. “He turned us into zombies, Julie. He’s got bioware hounds with laser eyes. Is _anything_ too crazy for him?”  
  
Julie grimaces. “I’ll _look_ , okay? Don’t let it get to you.”  
  
“Yeah, man,” Dutch says. “Let Julie work. No point worrying until we have more information.”  
  
“You guys didn’t _see_ him,” Mike mutters, but he relents.  
  
***  
  
Chuck tries to quell the bad feeling in his gut, put it out of his mind until they have more intel, like Dutch said. Weird stuff happens to them all the time, they always pull through. But he worries about Mike, a constant nagging in the back of his head. What happens later in the day doesn't help in the slightest. Chuck is working on an upgrade for Stronghorn with Texas when he decides to see if there’s anything edible for lunch and heads to the living-quarters kitchen. He hesitates in the doorway. Mike is in there, slumped over at the corner of the dining table, back to the door.  
  
Mike is making weird noises. Hissing sounds. Soft garbled words.  “Shhhhh… shhhhiiieee… _sheet!_ Ffffffff… fu… fu…”  
  
Chuck realizes, with a horrible sinking feeling, that he’s trying to swear.  
  
“Fffff, fff, sh-sh-sh… d-d-d-d-DANG IT!” He slams a fist into the wall. It dents the sheetmetal. Chuck backs out of the kitchen silently. He abandons Texas and locks himself in his room for the rest of the afternoon, tries to bury himself in code. He curses himself for a coward. But he doesn’t know what to do.  
  
***  
  
It’s late when Chuck hears the hesitant knock. He knows who it is. He gets up from his desk, takes a deep breath, and opens his door.  
  
"Hey, dude," he says to the shadow-eyed figure in the hall.  
  
"Hey."  
  
Mike doesn't say anything else. Chuck gestures wordlessly for him to come in. Mike brushes past Chuck and slumps down on his bed. Chuck hesitates for a second, then goes and sits beside him, settling tentatively onto the mattress. Mike turns to him.  
  
“What if it’s true?” Mike asks miserably. Chuck doesn’t need to ask what he’s talking about.  
  
“Mike, don’t. The Terras are always screwing with us, this is probably just one of their weird plots to mess with our heads.”  
  
“It would… explain some things, though. About… how I am.”  
  
Chuck hadn't expected this. He startles, shocked. “Wha... Like _what,_ though? Even if it’s true, Kane couldn’t have changed you _that_ much or it wouldn’t have worked, the other Mike said so himself.”  
  
“Well. What about, like… fear.” Mike looks guilty. “I don’t think I feel it right. I try, sometimes. Going fast, jumping off buildings, that sort of thing. Sometimes I think I get it, but it doesn’t seem nearly as strong as it should be. Not like how _you_ feel it.”  
  
Chuck snorts. “Well, maybe you’re brave and I’m a nervous wreck.”  
  
Mike glares at him. “You’re not listening to me, man. I’m trying to figure out if Kane _messed with my head._ I need to know what’s _normal.”_  
  
Chuck’s a little taken aback. He tries to put away his reflexive self-deprecation and really think about it.  
  
"Well, I mean, normal is… sort of hard to apply here? We do ridiculous stuff all the time. But fear is like… for me at least… like my guts knot up? I get light-headed and it's harder to think, and I feel all… shaky. It usually hits me after a fight or something, like, _during_ it I can just ride the adrenaline and do what I have to do, even if I gotta scream or whatever, but after…" This is hard to admit. But it's not like Mike doesn't see him freak out every day, he's got to know some of this already. "I don't know if it's _normal?"_ he continues. "The rest of you don't seem as scared all the time. Which I don't get, you're all _crazy,_ we're in constant, absurd amounts of danger. But that's how it feels for me."  
  
Mike is frowning. "Huh. I get the adrenaline rush, sure, but it doesn’t feel _bad_ to me. It feels… fun.”  
  
Chuck feels a bunch of weird things all at once. If it _is_ true… and all this time he’s been comparing himself to someone whose fear response has been artificially _tamped down…_ maybe he’s not such a coward after all? He feels a traitorous little surge of something like hope. He immediately squashes it, hates himself for even feeling it.  
  
"You're an adrenaline junkie," he says quickly. "That's a thing."    
  
Mike gives him a weird look. "Dude, I know you're trying to make me feel better, but… you don't know what's been going on in my head. Before I came down here, there was a lot of… weird stuff. That happened. Like when I joined the cadets, and I kind of… ditched you.”  
  
“Mike, we _talked_ about this, man." Chuck waves a hand. "You got caught up in cadet stuff, it’s fine. And then I went into R  & D and disappeared into a black hole. It was partly my fault.”  
  
“No, you don’t understand." Mike takes a deep breath. "There's more to it. That whole first year in the cadets, I felt so… disconnected. Being a cadet was the only thing that mattered to me, all of a sudden. God, I was so proud.” Mike stares shamefacedly at the floor. “I didn’t even try to call you. All I cared about was making Kane happy, being the best cadet I could be. It was only later I started thinking that that was… not right. I started… I started missing you. Like, _a year later,_ how messed up is that? I tried to find you, but they said you were on some top secret project and I couldn’t contact you. And then, later, when I saw your face on that “Wanted” poster, it made me wonder. Why would anyone defect? That was when I started to have… doubts. There were little things that didn’t fit together, about the way I was acting versus the way I _remembered_ acting. I started wondering why some of it was so… fuzzy. I _thought_ something was off, even before Kane sent me on that mission. It would... explain everything.”  
  
This is news to Chuck. He glances at the shadows under Mike's eyes, suddenly wonders how long they've been there. “That’s just speculation,” he says, trying to keep his voice even. “There’s lots of reasons things could have gone down that way.” It hadn’t occurred to him that there might be a _sinister_ explanation for their friendship faltering. He just thought he wasn’t cool enough. And then R  & D stuff happened and he had other things to worry about.  
  
“But,” Mike says, insistent. “Right before I joined the cadets. Maybe that was when it happened? And that’s why…”  
  
“Mike, stop it,” Chuck interrupts. “We don’t know that anything _happened._ The guy could be a total fraud.”  
  
Mike narrows his eyes. “You seemed to believe him, though.”  
  
“What… why would you say that?”  
  
“You had a very strong, uh, physical reaction.”  
  
“I hadn’t eaten anything!” Chuck sputters. “I get an upset stomach in the morning! I can’t deal with creepy Terra shit on just a cup of coffee!”  
  
“That’s another thing,” Mike says grimly. “Why can’t I say shhhhh. Shh. It. Or swear at all. You can’t tell me that’s not weird.”  
  
Chuck _really_ doesn't know how to deal with this. “I thought you were just… polite now?” he says faintly.  
  
“Dude. I _physically_ can’t say it. I thought I just didn’t _want_ to, but… I’ve been trying, and I _can’t._ It’s like my throat locks up.”  
  
Chuck winces at the remembered sound of Mike’s fist slamming into the sheetmetal. “Okay,” he admits reluctantly. “Granted, that’s kinda weird.”  
  
_“Kinda?”_ Mike stands up, agitated, starts pacing. “It’s _super_ weird! Chuck, I’m… I could be… I could be a _fake person!_ With someone else’s memories! Someone else’s life! And you think that’s just _kinda_ weird?”  
  
“You’re not a fake person!” Chuck snaps.  
  
"DUDE!" Mike yells. There's a surprising amount of anger in his voice. Chuck flinches. "What if I _am?_ It's plausible! It's really, really plausible and I'm freaking out, and you're acting like it's no big deal!"  
  
"I'm _not…"_ Okay, he kind of is. He can't just stick his head in the sand and deny how bad this could be. He starts over. "Look, I'm always trying my best _not_ to freak out about stuff, is all! I just think we should wait and see what Julie finds out, wait until the other Mike comes back and we can ask him some questions." Chuck furrows his brow, trying to figure out how to make this okay. "And even if it _is_ true… you're still _you._ It won't change, like, how any of us feel about you, you know? It won't change that you're a badass rebel who kicks Kane's butt on the daily."  
  
Mike lets out a long breath, sits back down on the bed. "Okay," he says, "okay." Mike's bursts of anger are always short-lived, draining away as suddenly as they appear. "I guess I can wait to freak out. But I gotta tell you." To Chuck’s surprise, Mike reaches out and grabs his hand. They’re a little touchy-feely, sure, but Mike doesn’t usually want comfort so transparently.  
  
“You know how I said I have a hard time feeling fear?” he says.  
  
“Yeah?” Chuck says hesitantly.  
  
“I think I’m feeling it now,” Mike says matter-of-factly.  
  
“Oh, geez, dude.” Chuck feels his heart twist in his chest. He grips Mike’s hand, then impulsively pulls him into a hug. Mike bonks his forehead into Chuck’s shoulder, lets it rest there.  
  
“Listen,” Chuck says, patting Mike awkwardly on the back, “whatever happens, you’re still _you,_ alright? Even if Kane rewired your brain or something, it wasn’t enough to keep you from doing the right thing! You're _here._ You protect us. That’s all _you._ That’s the _real_ Mike. That’s who I… that’s my _friend._ That’s why you're our leader, dude. Nothing stops you. _Nothing._ And this won't either. Even if it's true."  
  
"Yeah?" Mike says, muffled in Chuck's shoulder.  
  
"Yeah," Chuck says with more certainty than he really feels. "We'll figure it out, okay? Together. Like we always do."  
  
"Thanks, bro," Mike says, still muffled. "You're the best." Chuck is suddenly, uncomfortably aware of Mike's breath against his shoulder. _God,_ he hates his brain. Now is _not_ the time. It's not _ever_ going to be the time. He pats Mike on the back some more.  
  
When Mike finally pulls away, he seems composed, more like his usual self.  
  
"Seriously," he says, "thanks, dude. I'm... gonna head to bed. I think we both better get some sleep. Don't stay up all night coding again, you're gonna fry your brain."  
  
"Ahahaha, yeah. I won't." Chuck ducks his head sheepishly. Mike gets up, crosses the room, opens the door.  
  
"Um," Chuck says. Mike stops.  
  
"You know it's gonna be okay, right?" Chuck says hesitantly.  
  
Mike smiles at him. It's _almost_ his usual brilliant, fearless smile. "I do _now,"_ he says. "I'll see you tomorrow, bro."  
  
"Yeah."  
  
Mike shuts the door behind him.  
  
Chuck collapses backwards onto the bed. He rubs a hand over his eyes. He just lies there, staring at the ceiling, until he falls into a restless sleep.  
  
***  
  
Julie calls Chuck early in the morning, waking him up. He’s groggy, but he startles into alertness when her image resolves itself on the screen. Her mascara is smudged, her eyes large and red-rimmed in her pale face. She looks like she’s been up all night.  
  
“Julie?” he says hesitantly. “Are you okay?”  
  
She doesn’t answer the question. “I can’t talk to Mike about this yet,” she says instead. “But I have to talk to somebody. It’s true, Chuck. It’s all true.”  
  
Chuck’s stomach turns over.  
  
He’d known, really. He’d known on some level ever since the other Mike took off his gas mask. That was why he couldn’t keep his coffee down. He just hadn’t wanted to believe it. But looking at Julie’s shocked face, he knows it's real.  
  
“He was really doing it,” Julie says. She shakes her head, sort of wonderingly. “He was really cloning kids and downloading their minds and messing with them, trying to create the perfect, loyal super-soldier. I knew he was doing super-soldier stuff, I’ve known since the booster, but I didn’t think it was _this bad.”_  
  
Chuck suddenly blanches, remembering what other Mike said about _disposing of the originals._ They already knew Kane was a murderous sociopath, but… this seems like a whole other level.  
  
“At least the project seems to be over,” Julie says, lips thin. “He must have really had a meltdown when Mike defected. He scrubbed all the data. The only thing left is a corrupted report that used to be attached to Tooley’s personnel codex, just like you thought. I had to reconstruct it. It’s fragmentary, but it confirms everything. Everything.”  
  
Chuck’s at a loss for words.  
  
“Well, _shit,”_ he finally says. Julie laughs, a dry, humorless sound. They stare at each other for a long moment.  
  
“Chuck,” Julie says finally. “What if I came down there.”  
  
“Uh, of course, Julie, you can always come down here.”  
  
“What if I… stayed.”  
  
“Oh.”  
  
“I don’t know if I can do this anymore,” she says. Her face is blank, eyes dry. Somehow that’s worse than if she was crying. “I… I need some time. I need to talk to Mike about some stuff.”  
  
“Julie,” Chuck says, reaching out to touch the screen, “come on down. You know we’re here for you, no matter what.”  
  
Julie laughs again, that same scary, humorless laugh. “We’ll see,” she says. “Okay. I’ll see you guys soon.”


	4. Water under the bridge

Chuck is sitting at the counter in the living-quarters kitchen, morose. He’s spacing out a little. He’s been doing that a lot the last few days. Julie has pretty much moved into Mike’s room, and Mike is sleeping on the couch. The two of them have been having intense, furtive, hushed conversations in corners and hallways. Mike has cleaned the storage room at least twelve times, Chuck lost count after that. When Julie filled Texas and Dutch in, they were disbelieving, shocked. Texas has taken to doing loud muay thai exercises on the roof at all hours, stressing everyone out. Dutch disappeared for two days, then came back and has been banging around in Whiptail's engine block off and on ever since. Chuck feels like crap. He leans forward, rests his head gently on the counter. It’s cool and smooth.  
  
“Hey, Chuck,” a raspy voice says behind him.  
  
Chuck shrieks, spins around on the barstool, fists ready.  
  
“Whoa, whoa, shit!” It’s _other_ Mike, backing up, hands raised, a weird little smile on his nightmare face. “You’re even jumpier than I remember!”  
  
“Jesus!” Chuck yells. “Maybe if you didn’t sneak up on a guy!”  
  
“Sorry! Sorry!” Mike ducks his head apologetically. “Can I sit?”  
  
“How did you even get _in_ here?” Chuck asks, getting his breath back.  
  
Mike takes the barstool next to him, looks at him curiously. “Uh, it’s a hot dog stand outside, I just walked in. If you've got some kind of security protocol happening it leaves a _little_ to be desired.”  
  
Chuck doesn’t even care. “We found out you were telling the truth,” he says without preamble. “Mike’s a bioware-enhanced clone of you with implanted memories. It’s fucking everybody up. So, thanks for that.”  
  
“Oh. Geez.” Other Mike looks uncomfortable. “I didn’t want to fuck anybody up. I just wanted him to know the truth. Wouldn’t _you_ want to know? I thought _I_ would. And he’s me. So.”  
  
Chuck stares at him, incredulous.  
  
“You literally came in here, told him his whole life was a lie, and _left._ And then he found out you were for real. _Of course_ he’s fucked up, what did you _think_ was going to happen?”  
  
Mike flinches, looks chagrined. “I… I guess I didn’t really… think this through all that well?”  
  
“God, you really _are_ him." Chuck shakes his head, standing up. "You better talk to him. I'll get everybody, let them know you're here."  
  
“No, no, wait,” Mike says, grabbing his arm. “Stay a sec. I wanna talk to you.”  
  
Chuck settles back on his stool, trepidatious. “What about?”  
  
“Just… stuff!” Mike takes a breath. “Look, I know you’ve been hanging out with _me_ this whole time, but I haven’t seen _you_ for, like, years? How have you been?”  
  
Chuck flushes. “Ahahaha! Good! You know! Fine!” There’s a long, awkward silence. Chuck fidgets.  
  
“So,” Mike finally says. “You and Mike are still besties, huh?”  
  
“Yeah?” Chuck says defensively. “So?”  
  
“Huh.” Mike taps the counter, looking at Chuck out of the corner of his eye. His eyes are a much more brilliant green than regular Mike’s, and flecked with gold. Right now they look flat, almost reptilian. “So, around when we were twelve, you didn’t notice anything… change?”  
  
Chuck feels his stomach knot in horror. Mike was right. It had happened just before he joined the cadets. “You were… twelve?” he says shakily.  
  
Mike’s mouth tightens into a hard, jagged line. “You didn’t even _notice,”_ he growls accusingly. _Geez,_ his teeth are sharp. “You were supposed to be my best friend, and you didn’t even _notice_ that I got replaced with a pod person!”  
  
Chuck straightens, a mix of fear and indignation stiffening his spine. “Mike’s _not_ a pod person!” he protests. “And you _ditched_ me! I didn’t _notice_ because when we were twelve you totally ditched me for the cadets! You stopped even _talking_ to me! We only met up again down _here,_ after you got a clue and defected!” He's surprised at his own flash of anger.  
  
“ _I_ didn’t ditch you,” Mike says, affronted. “I never would have ditched you, dude. _He_ ditched you. Because he’s a _pod person.”_ Then Mike seems to register the entirety of Chuck’s statement. He looks a little shocked. “Wait. You ended up down here _first?”_  
  
“Yeah. You… _Mike…_ first started having doubts when he found out I, uh, _quit_ R  & D. Then Kane tried to make him knock down a bunch of buildings with people in them. So he quit, too. He’s not a pod person! The fact that he’s down here at all proves that! Everything he’s been doing for the past year and a half proves that!”  
  
Mike is looking at him wonderingly. “But you gave him the idea. You defected from _R & D?_ How did you get out? Kane keeps them locked down pretty tight.”  
  
“Oh! Well. It wasn’t anything… special. Just some hacking. I found maps of the access tunnels, got myself to one of the gates, and made it think I was a maintenance drone, walked right through. No big deal.” Chuck shrugs, uncomfortable with the way Mike is staring at him, wide-eyed.  
  
“Man,” he says. “I knew you were smart, but that is some genius-level stuff right there. You got _tall,_ too.”  
  
“Uh.” Chuck doesn’t really know how to respond to that. Mike just continues talking.  
  
“You’re right, I shouldn’t have called him a pod person. He did the right thing, standing up to Kane, and he’s been kicking ass down here ever since, from what I gather. That’s totally awesome. Sorry he ditched you, though.”  
  
"It's… okay. Water under the bridge. And now that I know it was because… um. Huh."  
  
Part of him still doesn't want to believe it, but it makes _sense._ It makes so much weird sense. Chuck feels a little sick again, suddenly.  
  
It must show on his face. “Dude,” Mike says. “Are you okay?”  
  
“Yeah,” Chuck says unsteadily. “I just… this is _really_ weird.”  
  
Mike sighs. “I totally didn’t think this through,” he says. “I should have… I should have tried to break the news a little more gently?”  
  
Chuck snorts. “With what? A fruit basket? I guess it’s not your fault, dude. I just wanna know, how did _you_ guys find out the whole story? We had a person on the _inside_ and she really had to dig for it.”  
  
Mike grins wickedly. “With the right drugs, _anyone’s_ happy to talk to you. Even Elites,” he says. Chuck blanches.  
  
“Don’t _worry,”_ Mike says, catching his expression. “We gave ‘em some memory blockers and turned ‘em loose. We’re not killers.”  
  
“Speak for yourself,” Chuck mutters. Mike gives him a quelling look.  
  
“We’re _not._ At least not if _I_ have anything to say about it. Get your people.”  
  
Chuck pulls up a screen and messages everyone.  
  
_terra mike s hr. cm 2 ktchn._  
  
***  
  
Dutch is the first to arrive, wiping engine grease from his hands with a rag. He pauses in the doorway.  
  
"Hi?" he says hesitantly.  
  
"Dutch," Chuck says, a little wearily, "this is Mike. Mike, Dutch."  
  
No one has time to say anything else before Texas bursts into the room, practically shoving Dutch out of the way. "Alright, lemme see this guy-y-Y-OH, WHOA, NASTY!"  
  
“Texas! Have some tact!” Dutch snaps. Terra Mike doesn’t seem fazed. "Hi," he says.  
  
"And this is Texas!" Chuck says, glaring. "He's terrible!"  
  
"Hey!" Texas protests.  
  
Chuck opens his mouth to explain that Texas being terrible is simply an objective fact, but closes it again when he sees Julie slink into the room like she hopes no one will notice.  
  
"Hey, Julie," Chuck says softly. He hates the way she gives him a kind of deer-in-the-headlights look. She turns the look on Terra Mike.  
  
"Hey. It's you," she says.  
  
"Yeah. It's me. Hi." Mike gives her a tentative wave. He looks like he's about to say something else, but then suddenly stops, sucks in a breath. Chuck follows his gaze across the room.  
  
Mike is standing in the doorway, uncharacteristically still and grave.  
  
The two Mikes stare at each other for a long moment. The other Burners hardly move.  
  
“I need to talk to you,” Burner Mike says finally.  
  
“Yeah.” Terra Mike stands up, serious. “Yeah, I figured. You wanna go somewhere?”  
  
“My room.” Mike turns on his heel abruptly and leaves. Terra Mike follows him without a word.  
  
***  
  
They’re cloistered in Mike’s room for nearly two hours. Chuck bites his fingernails to the quick. Julie tries to distract him with Lazer Swords 3, but neither of their hearts are really in it. Texas goes up to the roof again, they can hear him _ka-chaw_ ing and stomping around. Dutch folds himself into a corner with his sketchbook, scribbling furiously.  
  
Chuck is finally startled out of his desultory gaming trance when Dutch suddenly drops his sketchbook and stands up. The two Mikes have come back into the room without fanfare. Terra Mike has an arm slung familiarly around Burner Mike’s shoulders, almost protective. Burner Mike looks shaky, but also… _relieved,_ somehow. Chuck lets out a breath he feels like he's been holding forever.  
  
"Okay, I got some things to say," Burner Mike announces. "Where's Texas?" Chuck messages him. Moments later they hear him practically falling down the ladder to the roof. He charges into the room.  
  
"Tiny! You okay?" he exclaims. He's got his fists clenched like he's ready to fight. Mike smiles at him fondly.  
  
"Yeah, Tex, I'm okay."  
  
"Because if you're _not_ okay, I can start punchin' stuff." He glares at Terra Mike.  
  
"Totally not necessary, but thanks," Mike says. "So. Here's the deal," he continues matter-of-factly. "You already know some of this. Mike here got cloned right before he enlisted. Kane was gonna terminate him, but he escaped, mainly because an Elite grew a conscience, and he ended up with the Terras. I took his place up in Deluxe, but I didn't even know it, because Kane grew me in a d-d-d- _dang_ test tube and put _his_ downloaded memories in my head." He gestures at Terra Mike. "So. _That_ sucks." He pauses, looking disgusted.  
  
Then he takes a deep breath, seems to rally, and continues. "But. Everything after that… is _mine_. It’s real. Growing up in the cadets, leaving Kane, learning to drive Mutt, meeting you guys, starting the Burners, it’s all mine." He looks over at Terra Mike, who nods, encouraging. Mike continues. "Just because the first part is… _stolen,_ and Kane tried to _change_ me, to… to make me his _thing…_ that doesn’t make _my life_ less real. Or what I feel for you guys less real. I may not be the same as I was before he messed with my head, he may have changed some stuff about me, but _that,_ that’s real. I love you guys.”  
  
Julie reaches out a tentative hand towards his arm. “We love you, too,” she says softly, not quite touching him. Mike closes the gap by grabbing her hand and squeezing it. She looks startled.  
  
"Yeah. I _told_ you, dude," Chuck says stubbornly. "This doesn't change anything! You're still _you._ And you still told Kane to piss off. So, screw that guy."  
  
"Yeah!" Texas agrees enthusiastically. “So you have an evil twin! So Kane did some junk to your head! So what?" He waves a hand dismissively. "You can handle it, Tiny. Lots of people have weird brain junk they gotta deal with. I mean, yeah, it sucks and all, but I can help.” He drops into a muay thai pose. “I’ll punch your brain problems right in the _face,_ ka- _chaw!”_ He does a spin kick.  
  
“I don’t think that’s how it works, Tex,” Mike says, but he’s smiling a little.  
  
Dutch steeples his fingers, looking thoughtful. "Okay. So. You have his memories. But Kane made you guys… different? How does that work?"  
  
"Kane could make _some_ tweaks to the download of my brain, but he couldn't do too much without wrecking it," says Terra Mike. "We're gonna take some notes, try to figure out what he did. There's the swearing thing, obviously. Mainly it looks like he muted Mike's fear reflex and maybe amped him up a little. But we're not _that_ different. I like doing crazy stuff too." Terra Mike grins at Burner Mike. "This is actually kind of cool?" he says. "You're, like, my good-looking doppelganger."  
  
_"You're_ a doppelganger," Mike says, punching Terra Mike in the shoulder with the hand that's not holding onto Julie's.  
  
Chuck feels something unclench in his stomach. Terra Mike may look scary, but he seems to be basically the same decent, kind person that Burner Mike is. Whatever they talked about, it's reassured Burner Mike. He seems much more settled than he's been for the past few days. And Mike is nothing if not resilient.  
  
"So," Chuck says hopefully, "you guys are... okay?"  
  
Burner Mike frowns. "Well. You know. Mostly. It's still kind of ffff. Ucked up that Kane did stuff to my head and I'm not totally sure what. Mike and I are gonna have to do a bunch of comparing. I wanna know what he did to me. So I can. Undo it." Burner Mike scowls. Terra Mike frowns at him.  
  
"I don't think you have to _undo_ anything," he says. "I mean, we can definitely talk more about it. But you don't seem that different from me."  
  
"Still."  
  
"We'll help," Julie says suddenly, seeming to emerge from a distant reverie. "Whatever you need. We can fix this."  
  
Burner Mike gives her an odd look.  
  
"Julie, I don't think it's… a thing that can be _fixed?_ It's just, like. Reality. We'll deal with it."  
  
"Yeah, but. I could do something. I could maybe… go through the old files some more? Maybe there's a copy of the download somewhere. We could see where he edited it. You could know for sure. I can help!"  
  
Mike squeezes her hand. "Julie. You already looked. It's okay. We'll figure it out." Julie frowns, but subsides, going distant again.  
  
God, Chuck is worried about her. She's been really _off_ ever since she came down. This has really gotten to her, more than anything else they've dealt with as a team. If she's really going to stay down here… give up her internship and all her insider information… something pushed her over an edge. Chuck always thought Julie was pretty much invincible. Nothing bothers her; whatever gets thrown their way, she's cool and collected, ready with a retort or a joke. But now there are cracks showing, cracks Chuck never suspected were even there.  
  
"We'll do whatever we can to help, though?" Chuck says hesitantly, as much to Julie as to Mike.

Dutch nods. "Yeah, there's gotta be some stuff we can do," he says. "I could at least run that bioware scanner of Jacob's over you, get a sense of how you're physically enhanced."  
  
"Hah! You're not as physically enhanced as TEXAS!" Texas says, flexing. Dutch snorts, rolling his eyes. Terra Mike laughs.  
  
"I'm glad you've got these guys," he says to Burner Mike. He smiles around at all of them. Chuck is starting to get used to how toothy he is. "You all seem really solid. You've got my dude's back, right?"  
  
"You _know_ it," Texas says confidently. They all nod in agreement. Terra Mike looks around at them again, sighs.  
  
“I owe you guys an apology,” he says. “Sometimes I don’t think.” He grimaces. “I’m a f… well. I shouldn’t have dumped it on you like that and then left. I kind of panicked when you told me about Kaia.”  
  
Chuck starts. This Mike just freely admitted to panicking about something. That’s... different.  
  
"And on that subject, I have some news on the Terra front," Mike continues. He draws himself up, back straightening. "I've officially challenged Kaia's leadership. We have a community meeting scheduled for three days from now to work it out. I want you guys to be there."  
  
"Whoa," Texas says. "Intense! Community meeting!"  
  
"...Community meeting?" Burner Mike asks, puzzled.  
  
"Yeah? You guys don't have those?"  
  
Burner Mike looks around at the others. "Not… really?"  
  
Terra Mike also looks puzzled now. "How do you figure out, like, work-jobs? Or resolve disputes?"  
  
"Work-jobs?"  
  
"You know, who's doing which chores."  
  
"The Terras have... community meetings. About who's doing the chores."  
  
_"Duh,_ Tiny, how do you think I got my toxo-tank crew together?" Texas says.  
  
"Okay, I'm ignoring that for a second," Mike says. "You're _challenging_ Kaia? For _leadership_ of the Terras?"  
  
"Yeah, that's the plan. I want you guys there so you can see what goes down, either way."  
  
"Hey, that's _awesome!"_ Texas breaks in. "If this means you aren’t gonna be bad guys any more, can I come hang out? I wanna ride one of those mutant deer.”  
  
“Texas was kind of an honorary Terra for awhile there,” Burner Mike explains. He still looks pretty confused.  
  
“Yeah!" Texas says excitedly. "We filled a bunch of those toxo-tanks with spore junk and released it on Deluxe! It was totally sweet until it turned out to be totally evil.”  
  
“I heard about that,” Terra Mike says wryly. “The Texas twister is a legend in its own time.”  
  
“Yeah TEXAS! So can I come hang?”  
  
That’s when the Kanebot alarm goes off.


	5. Where the heart is

Chuck jumps, startled and infuriated. "Fucking… Kane!" he exclaims, quickly pulling up a screen. He loads his tracking program, zeroes in on the location of the bots. "It's Kanebots," he says to Terra Mike. Then to everyone: "They're on the east side again, must have come through the East Gate. Guys, we gotta reinforce that, this keeps happening!"  
  
Burner Mike stands up. "We're working on it, Chuckles. For now, let's go take 'em out before they do too much damage. What are we looking at?"  
  
Chuck squints. "Looks like one of those big fuckers he sent down with Vega, and some shock bots."  
  
"You gonna wreck 'em? Want me to come along?" Terra Mike is bouncing on the balls of his feet. Burner Mike grins at him. "Yeah!" he says.  
  
Texas cracks his knuckles. “Sweet! New guy can ride with me. Let’s see what you’re made of.”  
  
Terra Mike grins wickedly. “You’re _on._ This’ll be fun.” He pulls off his long coat, throws it onto the counter. His neck is encircled with a tangle of seed and bone necklaces, and he's wearing a black t-shirt and jeans. The clothes don't fit him very well. The jeans are ripped and baggy, sagging around his hips, and the t-shirt is… way too small. Chuck determinedly doesn't notice the dark skin showing at his midriff. Texas has no such inhibitions.  
  
"Huh, you got kind of a crop-top thing going on," he says, poking Mike in his exposed stomach. "Kinda girly, little man."  
  
"What do you mean?" Mike looks down at himself. "This is a normal outfit, right? It's one of my only, uh, non-Terra outfits. That I wear when I leave the village."  
  
Texas eyes him critically. "Well, it _sorta_ works. I like the bling. But that shirt is real iffy. You should get a sweet jumpsuit like Texas instead."  
  
Mike shrugs. "I hate shirts, anyway," he says. "You guys don't care, right?" Without waiting for an answer, he pulls the t-shirt off over his head, revealing a slim, muscular torso, patchworked with scars. Chuck puts a hand right through one of his screens. It makes a loud error noise.  
  
"Uuuh," Burner Mike says. "Okay! We better go, guys, no more time for Terra fashion camp!"  
  
"That's a better look, though!" Texas laughs. "Let's go, dude! Race ya to Stronghorn!" He takes off running.  
  
"I don't know what that is!" Terra Mike yells, bounding after him. Julie and Dutch follow. Chuck hastily shuts down his screens and stands up. "Ready, bro?" he says to Mike. Mike grins at him. It's that familiar, fearless smile.  
  
"You know it," he says happily.  
  
***  
  
Terra Mike, to Chuck's complete non-surprise, really likes cars.  
  
"What does _this_ do?" Chuck can hear him asking in the background of Texas' comm. Their comms channels are all open as they approach the east side at a moderate 200 miles per hour.  
  
"Dude, don't touch that," Texas says.  
  
"What's your top speed? This is so cool. Can you go over jumps? My deer can clear a twelve-foot obstacle. What's _this_ do?"  
  
"Focus, guys," Chuck breaks in, "we're getting close. Mike, take a left hereeeeeeeaaaaaaaugh!" Mike whips them around the corner and they come face-to-face with a swarm of shock bots. Mike pulls the wheel to the right, evading a sudden hail of laser-fire. They skid sideways through the swarm, Chuck frantically firing back with Mutt's cannons. The other cars follow them, also opening fire and scattering the bots.  
  
"Julie!" Mike yells into the comm as the bots begin to regroup behind them. "You draw off the shock bots. Dutch, follow Julie and pick them off. Texas and I will take care of the big bot."  
  
"On it," Julie says, peeling away. Suddenly there's six versions of Nine Lives, circling each other. The shock bots take the bait, swarming after the new targets. Dutch follows, Whiptail making that humming noise that means he's charging up the sonic blasters. Chuck doesn't have much time to follow their progress, though. The shock bots were the harbingers of a huge, four-legged bot that is right now charging toward them, firing a steady barrage of lasers. Mutt careens between the bot's legs and it circles quickly to face them again. This bot is way faster than the one that "Vega" destroyed. It looks ponderous, but it moves like lightening, jerky and stuttering in a way that seems designed to throw off targeting programs. Chuck fires at it haphazardly, struggling to get a lock on any weak points. Texas tries to ram Stronghorn into one of its legs and it dodges.  
  
"I can't get a lock!" Chuck says frantically. "The thing won't hold stillyyaaAAUUGH, MIKEY THAT IS NOT HELPING!" Mike has sent Mutt into a spin to avoid the bot's fire, centrifugal force pushing Chuck against the passenger door.  
  
"Texas, get as close as you can! I'm gonna try something!" Terra Mike yells. Mike shifts into 45th gear, slams the brakes and straightens out. When Chuck can see Stronghorn again, bulldozing through the chaos of laser fire, smoke, and dust, Terra Mike is climbing out Stronghorn's window.  
  
"What are you _doing?"_ Chuck shrieks as Terra Mike pulls himself almost halfway out of the car. His crossbow manifests itself, vines curling down from a cuff around his upper arm.  
  
"He can't hear you, Skinny, he's busy being _awesome,"_ Texas says. Terra Mike yells something in the background that Chuck can't make out. "You got it!" Texas says, and Stronghorn turns sharply left so the passenger window is facing the bot. Terra Mike fires a vine tendril right at the bot's side. It connects and jerks him abruptly out of Stronghorn. With a feral, exhilarated, double-toned scream that Chuck can hear even from inside Mutt, he swings wildly through the air towards the bot as the tendril contracts. _Great._ They _just_ met him and now he's going to _die._  
  
Mike slams into the bot. He grabs the tendril with his free hand, disconnects it from the crossbow, and hangs there, pointing his crossbow arm at the bot's legs. He starts firing capsules that erupt into clouds of spores. He's swinging around haphazardly from the vine as the bot rushes after Stronghorn, but he still manages to hit all four legs. The bot seems to finally sense it has a passenger, and stops abruptly. Momentum makes Mike lose his grip. Chuck yelps in distress as he flies through the air.  
  
Mike hits the ground hard— _way_ too hard—rolling to a stop in a heap. He jumps up, though, cradling his left arm, and starts running, dodging the bot's fire. Texas, circling back around the bot, screeches to a halt in front of him, throwing open the passenger door, and Mike vaults inside. Texas peels out.  
  
“Got ‘im!” Texas’ icon yells. Chuck can hear Terra Mike whooping in the background. There’s a creaking sound from the bot. Vines are growing around its legs, entangling them. The bot staggers to a halt, joints straining.  
  
“Chuck,” Mike says beside him, “this is our chance! Hit it with everything you’ve got!”  
  
Chuck pulls up every gun they have. He even powers up the Blastosaurus. It’s an oldie but a goodie. A quick scan reveals that most of the electrical activity is taking place in the small knob of the bot's "head." "Who puts controls in the _head_ anymore?" Chuck yells, irritated. "That's so _obvious_ and _dumb!"_ He locks onto his target and pushes every button at once.  
  
It's like a fireworks show. The bot's head erupts in a fountain of sparks as lasers, rockets, and missiles slam into it. The bot starts to overbalance, tilting creakily to one side, shooting flames and spraying unidentifiable liquids. Slowly, ponderously, it falls over. And when it hits the ground, the whole thing, _of course,_ explodes hyperbolically. Chuck winces, ducking down in his seat, as Mike yells "YEAH!" and does a fist-pump.  
  
"We took it down!" he yells into the comms. "How're you guys doing with those shock bots?"  
  
"All wrapped up, we got 'em," Dutch says. "We're heading back to you."  
  
"Nice! No need, we can meet back at the hideout, I think we're done here! We can get Jacob to take a look at the gate, he's the expert on those."  
  
"Right on. We'll see you guys back home."  
  
***  
  
Stronghorn is the last car to screech to a stop in the garage. Everyone else has already piled out of their cars onto the tarmac. Texas and Mike spill out of Stronghorn, laughing.  
  
“Dang, Ugly, you kicked BUTT out there! You’re alright!” Texas holds up a hand for a high five.  
  
_“Really?”_ Dutch says, exasperated. _“That’s_ what you’re calling him?” But Terra Mike slaps Texas’ hand hard with his good arm, rocking him backwards on his feet a little.  
  
_“Hell_ yeah,” he says. “He can call me whatever he wants, if he keeps driving like that!” They grin at each other.  
  
“Wow, whatever, you weirdos,” Dutch says, rolling his eyes. “Is your arm okay?”  
  
“I think it’s just broken, it’s fine.”  
  
They all stare at him. “That doesn’t _sound_ fine,” Julie says. Mike stretches out the arm gingerly. It is, indeed, bent a little at a funny angle below the elbow. “Oh, that’s NASTY!” Texas yells.  
  
“It’ll be fine,” Mike says. “I just gotta…” He startles them all by grabbing the wrist of his broken arm in the other hand and giving it a sharp tug. The bones set back into place with an audible crunch. Texas retches. Chuck gets a little light-headed. Mike, unperturbed, fiddles with his crossbow cuff. It extends a vine that wraps around his broken arm and smoothes over it, making a cast. He looks around at them.  
  
“It’s fine, guys! Terra mutations aren’t all bad. We heal really fast. This’ll only take a day or two to go back to normal.”  
  
“Your arm is _broken,”_ Chuck says weakly.  
  
“Yeah! No bigs! You should have seen the time I got my leg bitten off.”  
  
Chuck blanches. “Excuse me, what?”  
  
“That’s why I have a limp! That gator was _way_ bigger than I expected,” Mike says cheerfully. “Took a whole month to grow back, I had to lie around _forever.”_ He shudders, like _lying around_ was way worse than having his leg bitten off.  
  
“You can grow a new _limb?”_ Dutch says. “Man. Maybe I should get some of whatever they’re feeding you down there.”  
  
“I could totally grow a leg back,” Texas says. He sounds faint. “Just have to concentrate. It’s like growin’ hair. Anyone could do it.”  
  
“I mean, I’d rather not,” Mike says. “It itches like fuck.” They all stare at him again.  
  
“I’m starting to see why you guys think I’m crazy,” Burner Mike says.  
  
***  
  
Jacob, true to form, is surprisingly unfazed when they introduce him to Terra Mike.  
  
"Clones, huh?" he says. "I didn't know about that, but, can't say I'm too surprised!" He shakes Terra Mike's uninjured hand. "I'm sure you're a good kid if you're anything like our Mike here." Burner Mike ducks his head, embarrassed.  
  
"Thanks," Terra Mike says, surprisingly formal. "It's an honor." Jacob squints at him.  
  
"Well," he says, "Dr. Hudson and I will go over the programming for the gates. There must be some way we can keep those dang bots from getting through on the east side, we need to do some troubleshooting. You kids relax and I'll let you know if I need to head out to the gate in person. Nice work out there! Let me make you all celebratory smoothies, I've got a new recipe I want to test out on you!"  
  
They all settle into the kitchen, letting the tension of the mission dissipate. "That wasn't so bad," Texas says from his perch at the kitchen counter. "I've fought way bigger and faster bots, like, five at once, with nothing but my gunchucks and my _fists_. One time I punched a bot in the face and it exploded just like that. Mostly because of my awesomeness." Then he starts recapping the mission, with some interesting embellishments. No one is really listening to him, but Texas has never let that stop him. Chuck waits until Jacob has left for the lab before gingerly trying his greenish concoction. It tastes like pineapple and spirulina. Not the worst thing Jacob's ever made.  
  
“Hey, why don’t you have your own car?” Terra Mike says to Chuck over the flow of Texas' recap. Chuck coughs.  
  
“I _do!”_ he protests. “It’s just not… uh… operational! I’d rather ride with Mike anyway, he needs me to run the weapons systems!”  
  
“Haha, yeah, that was kickass!” Terra Mike laughs. “You took that bot’s head right off!”  
  
Chuck blushes. _“You_ got it stuck so I could aim,” he says.  
  
“Ladies,” Texas breaks in, “let’s not forget the real hero of this fight, which was obviously TEXAS. Without my mad driving skills, none of that junk would’ve happened.”  
  
"Sure thing, Tex," Burner Mike says absently. He's looking at Julie. She's sitting quietly, just holding her smoothie, not drinking it. Mike gets up and goes over, sits down beside her, and puts a hand on her arm. Julie startles, stares at him, eyes large and dark.  
  
"Julie," Mike says.  
  
"Mike, don't," she says warningly. "It's not a good time. Let everyone enjoy their smoothies."  
  
"'Enjoy' is a strong word," Chuck says faintly.  
  
"Jules," Mike says, "it's eating you up. The sooner you tell them, the better. You told _me,_ that's gotta be the worst one, right?  
  
Chuck furrows his brow. "Tell us what?"  
  
"Yeah," Texas say, concerned. "You've been all down in the dumps lately, Cynthia. You guys think I don't know about feelings and junk, but I do." Texas taps his head. "What's bugging' you, Elaine? Tell Daddy Texas all about it."  
  
"Julie, you can tell us anything, you know that," Dutch says gently. She clenches her small fists, glares at Mike.  
  
"I wish you wouldn't _push,"_ she mutters. "I was waiting for the right time."  
  
"Julie," Mike says firmly. "It's the right time _now._ Trust me. Can you trust me on this one?"  
  
“Okay,” she says. “Okay! God. Okay. I have something I need to tell you guys." She takes a deep breath, closes her eyes. "There’s really no good way to say this, so I’m just going to say it.”  
  
Terra Mike nods. “Solid strategy,” he says. A smile flickers across Julie’s mouth, quickly disappearing.  
  
“Kane’s my dad,” she says flatly.  
  
There’s a long silence.  
  
Chuck looks between her and Mike, confused. “He’s… your _dad?”_ he says. “Like, your biological, _actual_ dad?”  
  
“Yep, my actual dad,” Julie says sourly.  
  
“Wow, THAT sucks,” Chuck says before he thinks. Then he slaps a hand over his mouth, mortified. Julie snorts.  
  
“Huh. I _thought_ you had more going on than just an internship,” Dutch says, steepling his fingers. “You’ve been keeping _that_ under wraps this whole time? Stone. Cold.” He sounds impressed.  
  
“Kane’s really your DAD? NO WAY?” Texas exclaims. He jumps to his feet. Julie flinches. Texas doesn't notice.  
  
“That’s AWESOME!” he yells.  
  
Julie stares at him, shocked.  
  
“You know what this means, Alice?” Texas continues, elated. “You can invite him to dinner, like a father-daughter thing, and you can smuggle us in! We can hide under the table! He’ll never see it coming! We can jump out and beat the snot out of him! HWA-CHA!!” Texas looks triumphant for a second, then suddenly deflates. “Except, DUH, you probably don’t want to beat him up, because he’s your _dad_ and all. But he’s also KANE! So _do_ you want to beat him up? Cuz we can totally beat him up. Or… we can just beat him up a LITTLE." Texas frowns. "I dunno, actually this is sort of confusing.”  
  
Julie barks out a startled laugh. "Ha! Yeah! Confusing! That's one way to put it!"  
  
The enormity of the revelation finally hits Chuck. “Holy _crap,”_ he says, breathless. “So, the whole time you’ve been feeding us information from right under Kane’s nose, you had to also deal with… having him as a _dad?_ Like, family stuff? Jesus, like having to _eat dinner_ together and not let on? Julie. That’s _insane.”_ Julie gives him an uncertain look. “I mean, I know you’re good at subterfuge, but that’s just a whole other level.”  
  
“Yeah, our Cindy is the BEST at sneakin’ around and junk,” Texas says proudly.  
  
Julie looks around at them, disbelieving.  
  
"You don't… hate me?" she says, folding her arms across her chest.  
  
"What? No!" Burner Mike exclaims. "Obviously we don’t hate you, right, guys? Why would you even _say_ something like that?”  
  
“Because!” Julie cries. “I’ve been lying to you all this whole time! I didn’t want you to think I was _like_ him! But I am! I _am_. He’s planning to make me his heir, turn Deluxe over to me. He wouldn’t do that if he didn’t think… if he didn’t think I…”  
  
“Stop talkin' crazy, Ashley!" Texas yells, startling them all. "You’re NOT like him! Who cares if you’re his kid? Kane is a PUNK! You’re a BURNER! That’s the exact OPPOSITE THING! ” He slams a fist into an open palm. “So what if you share some genes or whatever! You come down here and fight him ANYWAY! So you’re one of US, lady!"  
  
"Yeah," Burner Mike says. "You've proven it in a million ways."  
  
Julie looks suspicious. "How are you not more upset by this," she says to Burner Mike flatly. She looks between him and Terra Mike. "What he did to you guys… to those kids in the cloning program… it's worse than anything I thought he was capable of. He's a _monster."_  
  
Terra Mike looks at Burner Mike, brow furrowed, then looks back at Julie.  
  
"Okay, I know I just got here," Terra Mike says, "but I'm pretty sure that has nothing to do with you? I mean, yeah. Sort of sucks that you're related to the guy who cloned me and then tried to have me murdered. But. Clearly you're standing against him, I just saw you kick Kanebot _ass._ If these guys trust you, I do too. And Texas has a point." He smiles that dangerous-looking smile. "This could actually be a tactical advantage, if we play our cards right."  
  
"Whoa," Burner Mike says. "We're not using this as a _tactical advantage_ without Julie's say-so." Terra Mike looks insulted. "Of course not!" he says. "It's just good leverage to have. We can put it in our back pockets." Texas gives him a startled look.       
  
"No," Julie says, "he's right. We really got to him with the hostage gambit. But I'm not sure we could do something like that again without him figuring it all out. Ugh!" She rubs her temples. "The worst part is… I can't totally hate him! There's part of me that still… still wants him to _be better._ Still wants to believe he could change, if I just… said the right thing, or something."  
  
"It's not your job to change him," Dutch says gently. "That's not on you."  
  
"Yeah," Terra Mike says, surprising Chuck. "People have to _want_ to change. You can't blame yourself for stuff your dad did. Just because someone raised you…" He stops, looking a little sad. "Well. I get where you're coming from, is all." Julie gives him a sharp, appraising look.  
  
"Thanks," she says finally. But she still seems really tense, shoulders drawn up. Chuck tries to think of something reassuring to say, but she's talking again before he can speak.  
  
"Listen, I can't believe you guys aren't mad, but... I'll take it. But before you can trust me, we gotta check something," she says grimly. "I could be a clone too. Anyone have any idea how to find out? There wasn't any record of who else Kane... put through the program."  
  
Burner Mike startles, stares at her. "Julie, I don't think he would have…" She holds up a hand.  
  
"There's a lot of things I didn't think he would do," she says, voice hard. "And he did them. So we gotta check."  
  
There's a silence as they all absorb this.  
  
"Well," Dutch says reluctantly after awhile. "Clone skeletons are bioware, right? So, we'd just need, uh. A sample. Then we could analyze it."  
  
"Good idea. Let's do it," Julie says immediately. "Can you do it here?"  
  
Dutch rolls his eyes. "Julie, I don't know how to do a _bone biopsy."_  
  
"Can't you just, like…" She gestures vaguely.  
  
"I don't know what that _means,"_ Dutch says. "Come on. We need to talk to Jacob for this."  
  
"Oh!" Julie lights up. "Yeah, he would know. And I should tell him!" She stands up.  
  
"Tell him…"  
  
"Yeah!" she says excitedly without explanation, and hurries out of the room. Burner Mike gets up, shrugs. "Okay, guess we're going to the lab," he says.  
  
***  
  
They follow Julie into the lab. Jacob is poring over a screen full of code. Julie practically runs up to him, grabs his arm.  
  
"Jacob!" Julie says. "I told them!"  
  
"You told them? About… the thing?" He raises his eyebrows, swivels his chair around and looks them all over.  
  
"Yeah, I told them about Kane!"  
  
"Well, _finally,"_ Jacob says, sounding relieved. He throws an arm around her, squeezes her shoulders.  
  
"Wait, Jacob, you _knew?"_ Burner Mike says.  
  
"Yep!" Jacob says. "I knew Julie when she was just a little sprout. I was so proud when she first came down here and found me, said she wanted to start working against her old man! Mike, that was right after you defected, remember?"  
  
Mike nods, dumbstruck.  
  
"She swore me to secrecy though. Thought you guys wouldn't trust her. Well, I say, baloney! And I was right, wasn't I?"  
  
"I had to prove myself!" Julie protests. "Show you I was really on your side."  
  
"Kiddo, you've showed us all right," Jacob says, squeezing her again. "I'm glad you told them. Secrets ain't healthy. I wasn't sure how much longer I could keep my trap zipped, it was buggin' you so much."  
  
Julie leans her head on his shoulder. "Thanks," she says. "I… I needed to keep it a secret for awhile. I'm sorry, guys." She looks exhausted. But then she raises her head, determined.  
  
"Jacob," she says, "I need you to do a bone biopsy on me."  
  
"A what now?" Jacob says, startled. "Why on earth…?"  
  
"I need to see if I'm a clone, too," Julie explains. "It's important."  
  
"Well, I'm pretty sure you aren't," Jacob says, frowning. "I oversaw your gestation myself. Kane used an egg donor and an artificial womb, that's no secret. It all seemed pretty above-board to me. Though, I never asked where Kane got the egg." Jacob taps his lip. "He did have a 'Ms. Deluxe' competition right before you were conceived." Julie looks at him, startled.  
  
Texas points at her. "You really _are_ Ms. Deluxe," he whispers, awestruck.  
  
"Shut up!" Julie growls, swatting his hand away. "That's not even important right now! I still need to check. Kane could have done something… later. Like he did to Mike."  
  
"Alright," Jacob says. "We can check. Give me a few minutes to get some stuff together, and we'll have you sorted out in a jiffy."  
  
***  
  
The procedure is pretty simple, though it involves a large needle that makes Chuck queasy. He can't even look as Jacob carefully takes a sample from Julie's arm. He knows she can't feel it, Jacob gave her a local anesthetic, but still. Jacob takes the sample to a lab bench, comes back in few minutes with a microscope slide.  
  
"Ready?" he says to Julie.  
  
"Let's get this over with," she says, tight-lipped.  
  
Jacob puts the slide on a clear glass table, pulls up a light and a magnification screen. They all stare at the sample, projected above the table. Chuck has no idea what he's looking at, but Dutch and Jacob look at each other and nod. Dutch turns to Julie.  
  
"That," Dutch says, "is normal bone tissue. You're not a clone."  
  
To Chuck's utter shock, Julie makes a weird hiccuping noise and starts leaking tears. He's never seen her cry before, and it's the _worst._ She covers her face with her hands, trying to hide it like she's ashamed.  
  
_"Julie!"_ Mike says, stricken.  
  
"I'm okay!" she says angrily into her hands. "I'm _fine!_ I just thought… I was afraid that…" She chokes back a sob.  
  
Mike looks just the slightest bit hurt. "Hey, being a clone isn't _so_ bad."  
  
"No!" Julie cries. "It's not that!" She pulls her hands away from her face, wiping her eyes, and looks around at all of them. "I was afraid he might have had access to my brain, if he downloaded me. Who _knows_ what he could have put in there, if he wanted to make me his heir. There could have been… some kind of programming, that he could _turn on_ or something, that would make me dangerous, that would make me… _bad_. I wouldn't have been able to hang out with you guys anymore. I can't… I had to make sure you were all safe. From me."  
  
"Oh, _Jules."_ Mike looks pained.  
  
"But it's okay, I'm not dangerous, he _can't_ have put anything in my brain, I'm not…" Mike cuts her off by wrapping his arms around her. She sobs again, hugs him back, hard.  
  
Terra Mike steps over to them, hesitant. "Hey," he says, "can I… um. Also give you a hug."  
  
"Get over here," Julie says, muffled in Mike's chest. Terra Mike wraps his good arm around both her and Burner Mike.  
  
Chuck feels like he’s intruding just by being in the room. These three have been betrayed by Kane in ways he could never imagine. But Julie turns her face from Mike's chest to look at the rest of them, smiles a small, teary smile from within Mike’s arms, says, “What are you guys waiting for?”  
  
Texas doesn’t hesitate, barreling in and almost knocking the three of them off their feet. Dutch unfolds himself from his chair, goes over and wraps his long arms around everyone. Chuck breaks his paralysis and plasters himself against the outside of the group. He ends up right next to Terra Mike. He can’t help but notice that Mike smells nice, kind of earthy, like Jacob’s grow room.  
  
After awhile, Julie says, “Okay, get off me, you’re squishing me.” They let her go. She’s not crying anymore. “Oh _man,”_ she says. “I love you guys.”  
  
“Love you too, Allison,” says Texas. Then he surprises Chuck by turning red and pulling his hat down over his eyes. “Yo, does anyone else have any more problems?” he says gruffly. “Cuz Texas is really good at punching things, but I can’t handle much more of this girly junk. No offense, Ruby.”  
  
“Some taken,” Julie says, but she’s smiling a little.  
  
She turns to Jacob, still sitting at the lab bench. "Thanks, Jacob," she says. He waves a hand.  
  
"No problem, kiddo," he says. "I'm glad I could help. You kids… you kids are tough. I know you'll take care of each other. But I'm always here if you need me." Julie hugs him. He hugs her back tightly. When she lets go he looks a little choked up.  
  
"I'm sorry your old man is such a bummer," he says. "He's… he wasn't always this way. I almost took you with me, when I left Deluxe, but… I didn't want to put you in danger. And I couldn't take you away from him. You were the only thing he'd genuinely cared about in decades. You made him… human again. I thought if _I_ couldn't reach him, maybe you could. Maybe you still can."  
  
Julie looks at him uncertainly. "No pressure," she says.  
  
"I'm sorry, kiddo," Jacob says regretfully. "You can't help who loves you sometimes. And you can't pick your family."  
  
Julie looks around at the Burners. "I can. I have," she says. Chuck feels a rush of fierce affection. "Home is where the heart is, after all. And mine is down here." She smiles at them. Then her smile turns fierce.  
  
"You guys ready for a strategy session?" she says. "Because I think it's time we figure out how to kick my dad's ass once and for all."  
  
***  
  
They reconvene in the living room. Texas brings popcorn. Julie gets right to the point, as usual.  
  
"What now?" she asks them all. “I’ve already been down here three days. Claire can’t cover for me much longer. I either have to go back, or I have to… I have to tell him. That I’m a Burner. That I’m standing against him. It might… it might make him rethink things. Or he might bring the hammer down on us even harder. I can’t predict what he’ll do.”  
  
Mike pinches the bridge of his nose. “Julie, we need more time to figure this out. I think we need you to go back. Can you stand it? Just for a little while.”  
  
Julie nods, determined. “I was thinking the same thing. I can do it. I need to make sure Claire’s off his radar, anyway. She’s good at playing dumb, but if he finds out how much she knows… well, we’d have to bring her down here permanently, and I really don’t think she’d appreciate that.”  
  
Chuck feels a pang. He _knows_ Claire doesn’t like him, doesn’t really like Motorcity all that much, but it still hurts to hear. This is his _home,_ gross and dangerous as it may be. And Claire… well, Claire hasn’t seen the things he’s seen, up in Deluxe. She doesn’t know what’s hiding under that perfect white veneer. Or if she does, she has enough faith in the vision that she doesn’t care. Either way, it was never going to come to anything. Just like all his crushes.  
  
"Okay," Burner Mike says, "so the plan for now is… what? You all know the situation Julie's in, but what can we do about it?"  
  
"Well, for one thing, it’s past time we started thinking long-term," Dutch says thoughtfully. "We should strategize with the other gangs and the Cablers, create a defense plan. They were all on board when we took down the Genesis pod, we can harness that."  
  
Burner Mike claps his hands together. “Yeah! We all have a common enemy, you know? We should have a united front. No more infighting. I’ll talk to Rayon! He knows people from all the gangs, and he still kind of owes me one."  
  
“My people in R  & D can’t always give me intel,” Chuck offers, “but they’re on our side. Between them and Julie, we can keep tabs on what Kane’s up to and pass it along, make sure everyone is prepared. But even if we come up with some kind of united front down here, how can we get him to back off for good?"  
  
“Hostile takeover,” says Dutch. They all look at him.  
  
"Julie, you said he was prepping you to run Deluxe. You think you could take over the place early if you had enough backup?" He smiles wryly. "I mean, having _you_ in charge would pretty much solve all our problems, you know?"  
  
Julie taps her lip. "Maybe," she says slowly, "but there's only a few people that even know I'm his daughter. We'd have to really coordinate it. Get Motorcity unified, give Deluxe a reason to accept new leadership, _and_ give Kane some kind of ultimatum that he can't ignore to make him step down."  
  
Chuck grimaces. It sounds impossible. But Dutch is looking hopeful.  
  
"There gotta be something out there, someone, who's just as pissed at Kane as we are, and has more firepower," he says. "Or at least the kind of power Kane would understand. There's gotta be _something_ we could hold over his head."  
  
"What about Vega?" Terra Mike says.  
  
All the Burners turn to stare at him.


	6. Light at the end of the tunnel

"Okay," Mike says. "Can you expand on that, please? I thought Vega was something Kane made up to psych us out."

Terra Mike frowns. "What do you mean?"

Texas raises his hand. "Oooo! Can I…"

"No, Texas, you _cannot_ recap," Burner Mike says firmly. Several minutes and about twenty Texas interruptions later, Terra Mike is mostly up to date on Kane's trickery.

"And I was a dumbah. Sss and got stuck up in Kane's holding cell with Red for like three days. He punched me a _lot,"_ Mike says, grimacing.

"But you escaped." Terra Mike has been pretty much hanging on every word.

"Yeah, that was the best part! I tangled Red up in the electro-restraints and they blew up! Then I busted out of the cell, but I was just running down random hallways. Julie saved my butt. She told me to jump out the window." Mike grins at her.

"And you just _did_ it?"

"Well, yeah! She flew a housing pod over and caught me in midair! And after that the whole Genesis pod thing happened, you heard about that."

"Wow! That's so awesome!"

"Yeah, basically that's the whole point of the story," Texas says. "Burners are awesome, Kane sucks, the END!" He karate-chops the air with his hands.

"So, that's the only reason we've heard of Vega."

"Hm." Terra Mike looks thoughtful. "Well, every good lie has a kernel of truth in it, I guess Kane knows that. Vega is the intelligence arm of Cleveland’s government."

Mike looks delighted. "Holy shh. Shh. It," he says. "Cleveland! You gotta tell us about that. How did you find out Cleveland even existed? We always heard there was nothing outside the dome but a radioactive wasteland."

Mike laughs. "It's not any more radioactive out _there_ than it is in _here._ And a little radioactivity never bothered the Terras, anyway. They sent scouts out a long time ago, made contact. We do a little trading with the Clevelanders, but they're pretty secretive. When I went, it was kind of a leap of faith that they'd even let me into the city. But I had an in. There's a medical center where they do research on… I always forget what they call it. Post-nanotechnology mutagenic… something something. They'd been wanting to get their hands on a Terra for ages, but no one wanted to volunteer. The researchers there were _so_ excited. They ran a _lot_ of tests on me." Mike smiles ruefully. "That's why it took me so long to get back. I had to let them finish up, get enough data."

"What's it like outside the dome?" Mike asks, wide-eyed.

"It's crazy once you get past the soybean fields. You think mutant rats are bad, wait until you see a mutant raccoon! Check out this tooth." He pulls one necklace out of his tangle, displays an enormous fang.

"Wow," Burner Mike says. "That's _so_ cool."

Okay, if they're not careful the two Mikes are going to get stuck in an endless loop of being supportive and awestruck at each other. Chuck rolls his eyes a little, but he has to admit, it's pretty cute.

"So, Vega?" Chuck prompts. "They might have something we could use against Kane?"

"I don't know, but if anyone does, it would be them." Terra Mike glances around at them conspiratorially. "I heard Kane got into some kind of fight with Vega over Lake Erie. And _lost."_

"Oh SNAP," Texas says. The Burners all grin at each other.

"Guys," Mike says, "this could be a real lead." He turns to Terra Mike. "Can you get us in touch with them?"

"I can get you to Cleveland. That's a start. I can't take you until the leadership dispute is settled, though."

"Right," Mike says. "Julie, can you come back in three days for the meeting at the Terras'?"

"Yeah," she says, eyes glinting. "I'll have to stay away until then, but I'll be there."

"Okay, we'll work the angles with the gangs over the next few days. Then, we go to the Terras' and back Mike up. After that, we figure out how to get in touch with Vega. I don't know what will come from that, but at the very least, we'll have stronger defenses down here while we figure out how Jules can make a move."

"Yeah!” Julie says. She looks a little manic. “You guys are right. If I can _use_ his obsession with making me his heir… _hah!_ Okay, I need to think about this some more. For now, I'm going to go back up, get him to start accelerating my lessons. Hahaha, I'll be a good little dictator-in-training!"

"You gonna be okay up there?" Mike asks, concerned.

"I've held out _this_ long," she says. "I can do it. And you guys have given me some ideas. There's some people I want to talk to, some things I want to try. I should go! I have a _lot_ to do. I have a megacorporation to take over, after all."

"That's the spirit!" Mike says, clapping her on the shoulder.

Chuck feels something stirring in his chest. Not just surviving from day to day, scavenging moments of happiness where they can find them, but real, lasting peace. That’s something to hope for. Something to work toward.

"This is probably a bad idea that's going to get us all killed," he says, smiling ruefully, "but when has that ever stopped us before? I’m _totally_ in. Whatever you need me to do.” Julie grins at him, a fierce, ecstatic grin that takes Chuck a little by surprise.

“Okay. Let's get to work,” she says. “I'll see you guys in three days. Don't wreck the place while I'm gone."

“No promises,” says Texas.

Dutch stands up. "I'll come with you! I’m gonna go ahead and go over to the Cablers', see if Bracket and Tennie have some ideas."

"Great!" Julie takes the garage stairs two at a time, Dutch following. Chuck watches them go with a mix of fondness and worry. He really hopes she's going to be okay up there. It's not going to be easy to keep up the pretense, knowing what she knows. But if anyone can do it, Julie can.

Burner Mike stands up. "I should call Rayon, set up a meeting. You guys cool for now?"

"YEAH!" Texas yells. "Time for Muscle Mulch! I'm gonna go chug a whole container to GET RIPPED to PUNCH KANE!" He bounds out of the room.

"I gotta head out soon," Terra Mike says, "but it was fun wrecking bots with you guys. Come to the Terra village around noon on Thursday, and we'll go from there."

"We'll be there. Thanks for your help today, that was awesome." Burner Mike and Terra Mike trade fistbumps and Burner Mike strides out purposefully.

Chuck is suddenly alone with Terra Mike. There's a long silence.

"Uh," Chuck says. Oh great. Brilliant conversation starter. But Mike just smiles at him, sort of shyly.

"Hey, come out here for a sec," Mike says, tilting his head toward the deck.

Chuck hesitantly follows him outside, pulling the door shut behind him. Mike stands silent for a moment, looking out over the garage, Chuck beside him, uncertain.

"So. Um." Mike looks away, looks back. "I didn't get a chance to say. I'm glad you made it down here okay, bro." He pauses, takes a deep breath. "I missed you, you know? I wanted to warn you about what Kane was doing, but we didn't have any way to get a message to the upper levels. By the time we managed to open some communication channels and I could try to track you down, you were… gone. I didn't know you were in R & D. I didn't know you came down _here!_ Not until the Terras sent me the intel about Mike and his crew. I was afraid you were… well. I'm just really glad you're okay."

"Oh." Chuck feels weirdly guilty. He thought Mike had ditched him, when the whole time… he'd been trying to get in touch from down _here,_ trying to find Chuck, and Chuck hadn't had any idea. He wouldn't have had much time; Chuck hadn't seen the point of waiting any longer to volunteer for R  & D after Mike left the wards, left _him,_ even though some of the ward caretakers thought he was too young. It had only taken him a few months to talk his way into the division, with his absurdly high marks in programming. He had also expressed to the division directors that he was willing to be a test subject for bioware implantation. Secretly, he'd hoped that if he could get a new, whole arm, be _normal,_ maybe he'd have better luck keeping friends. But the years he'd spent in R  & D had not been… ideal.

He realizes he's scratching at his scars again, pulls his hand away from his shoulder.

"I missed you, too," he finally says. "Even though I didn't know you were… actually _gone._ I just thought you didn't like me any more, or that you made cooler friends in the cadets. I… That _sucked,"_ he admits.

"Yeah," Mike says sadly. "How did the other Mike talk you into being friends again, after that?"

"Oh. Well. He didn't have to. He was just… so happy to see me." Chuck smiles a little, remembering the day Jacob had taken Chuck out to see if they could help at a demolition site, and they found Mike in the wreckage. The way his face lit up when he turned around and saw Chuck climbing down out of Sasquatch. The way he rushed over and swept Chuck up into a bearhug, just like when they were kids. Chuck had yelped in surprise and they'd both started laughing, and in seconds it was almost like those horrible empty years had never happened.

"I looked all over for you!" Mike had said. "And then I found out you _defected!_ Dude! I knew you were down here, but I can't believe it's really you!" And Chuck hadn't ever had the heart to ask, _Why did you leave me? Why didn't you look for me_ sooner? _Why didn't you_ find _me?_ He'd just been happy to have his best friend back, after so long.

And if he'd noticed there were some little things that were… off… about Mike—like the way he'd bring up stuff he _knew_ Chuck didn't like to talk about, like Chuck's toes, out of nowhere, as if to prove he knew about it; or the way he obsessively cleaned and organized things; or the way he seemed a little less understanding of some of Chuck's anxieties than he used to be—Chuck had just chalked that up to whatever he'd been doing in the cadets. It wasn't like Chuck didn't have his own issues, his own secrets. Some things weren't worth the pain of talking about.

"He was so happy to see me," Chuck continues, "that I couldn't be that mad. I guess… the memories he got must have been… pretty strong? For him to still like me?" That feels a little warm, thinking about it.

"Yeah," Terra Mike says. "They're strong memories." He's looking at Chuck sadly.

And suddenly it hits him. Those memories belong to _this_ Mike.

This is _Mike._ Not some weird Terra anomaly, or a liar, or a trick. This is his childhood best friend, and he'd never abandoned Chuck, not on purpose. He'd always been there.

 _"Oh,"_ Chuck says, gut-punched. _"Dude._ Listen. This is a really weird situation but… it's _you?_ I thought… I thought I found you again when I found Mike, but… you're _also…_ I mean… Holy shit! It's really you!"

Mike is starting to smile, though it's small and hesitant. "Yeah, buddy," he says. "It's really me. I know I'm not how you remember me, but…"

Chuck stops him by grabbing him up in a hug. Mike makes an undignified "Whoof!" noise as Chuck squeezes the breath out of him.

"Bro!" Chuck squeaks. "Oh my god! I didn't… I'm so _dumb!_ This is crazy! Oh man! I missed the heck out of you!" Mike has started laughing into his shoulder. Chuck doesn't know what else to say, he's so full of confused emotions. So he just squeezes Mike harder, nearly lifting his feet off the ground.

When he finally puts Mike down, Mike is still laughing, but Chuck is startled to see that he's also tearing up a little. He's never seen Burner Mike cry. Terra Mike seems a little more… open. He quickly gathers himself, wipes his eyes as if there's no reason for it, and punches Chuck in the shoulder.

"Good to have you back, man," he says, grinning. His grin is still startlingly toothy, but it's not as off-putting as it was at first. Chuck can see the familiar smile of his best friend in it.

"Yeah!" Chuck says, grinning back at him. "You too! Sorry I was being so weird."

"I get it, bro, this whole thing is weird. Sorry I _look_ so weird," Mike says, a little abashed.

Chuck frowns. "Dude, I don't care about that. But… it doesn't hurt or anything, does it?" he asks, concerned.

Mike raises his hand to his face self-consciously.

"No," he says. "It hurt while it was… happening. But it was a choice I made, when I decided to stay. It happens to all Terras around puberty, it’s the price you pay for, you know, the healing ability and being able to eat whatever. My friend Phyla was going through it at the same time, she helped me. Kaia helped me, too." Mike suddenly looks sad.

"Kaia… for some people, it doesn't stop at the mouth. It just… keeps happening. We're not sure why. That's a big part of the reason I went to Cleveland in the first place, let them use me as a test subject. Those researchers… they might be able to help her, if I can just convince her to go." Mike grimaces. "She thinks she's _fine."_ He shakes himself, waves a hand. "But anyway. That's all stuff for the meeting. You'll be there, right?"

"Of course, dude," Chuck says. "We'll all be there. We've got your back."

"Awesome. Thanks." Mike glances at him sideways. "Hey, can I get another hug?" he asks shyly. "We've got some lost time to make up for!"

Chuck smiles fondly. Terra Mike is just as affectionate as Burner Mike. It’s endearing. He tugs Mike in and squeezes him again. When Mike pulls back after a long moment, he lets his hand rest on Chuck's shoulder, grinning up at him.

"Haha! Dude, you got so _tall,"_ he laughs. "And you've got legs for _days!_ Wow!"

Uh. Okay… that… what? Chuck looks down at his own limbs self-consciously. He's got gangly legs, it's true, that's… probably what that meant.

"Hey," Mike continues, "we should hang out more some time, swap stories. I wanna hear about everything that's happened since I've been gone! You gotta tell me all about getting out of R & D, and hooking up with the Burners, and everything that Kane's been up to!"

"What about… now?" Chuck says, hopeful, dizzy. "We could just stay up all night, like we used to."

Mike looks regretful. "I'd love to, dude, I'd really love to, but I gotta get back to the Terras. Kaia hasn't been taking this whole thing very well, I can't stay away too long. But when you guys come, assuming everything… goes okay, you should stay! I'll show you around, introduce you to everyone."

"Yeah! Great! Let's do that!"

"Haha, nice! Okay! Um." Mike hesitates. "Well, I should… probably go? But, I'm really glad that… yeah! I mean."

Chuck laughs, smiling helplessly. "Me too, dude! I gotcha. Get out of here. I'll see you soon!"

"Yeah! Really soon! Okay, bye!" Mike backs away a few steps.

"Later, bro!"

"Okay, later!" Mike takes a few more steps backwards.

"Dude, leave already! I'm gonna push you off the roof!" Chuck is smiling so hard it hurts.

"No wait, check this!" Mike abruptly backflips over the edge. Chuck runs forward to watch him fire his crossbow tendril and hurl himself across the garage again.

"You're ridiculous!" Chuck yells. "How are you doing that with _one arm?"_ He can hear Mike laughing in the distance as he flings himself out of the building. Chuck just stands there for a long moment, grinning after him like a goon.

When he turns around, the door to the living room is standing open. He squints at it uncertainly. He thought he’d closed it. He walks back into the living room, hears a noise from the kitchen. He’s pretty sure he knows who it is.

Sure enough, it’s Mike, rooting around in the fridge. He comes up with a plate of unidentifiable leftovers just as Chuck comes in.

"Hey!" Mike says, studiedly casual. "Want some of this… well. I'm not sure what it is."

“I guess?" Chuck says. He sits down at the counter. "You get Rayon?"

"Left him a message. He never picks up." Mike slides the plate over, puts two forks on the counter, then comes around to sit next to Chuck. He fidgets for second, picks up a fork, puts it down again.

"Everything… okay?" Chuck says, concerned.

Mike sighs. "Can I ask you something?" he says.

“Of course, bro.”

"Does the clone thing… bother you?"

Chuck takes a second with this. It's important to get it right.

"Well, in a way. It bothers me that Kane did something messed up to you, dude! But you _being_ a clone doesn't matter. Why?"

“I dunno. You keep saying it doesn’t change anything,” Mike says, “but I think it might.”

Chuck furrows his brow. “Like what?”

Mike shrugs uncomfortably. “I dunno. Stuff.”

Chuck knows he’s not that great at solving for x when x = emotions, especially when he’s data-deficient. So he squeezes Mike’s shoulder.

“I need a little more info here, Mikey,” he says gently. “What’s bugging you?”

“Maybe it _should_ change things,” Mike mumbles. He looks… guilty. “I’m… I get it now. Why I was a bad friend.”

They never talked about this in much detail. Chuck had waved the whole thing away when Mike had awkwardly apologized. He… kind of didn’t want to know specifics, once he got Mike back. But… the reason actually has nothing to do with Chuck being a loser. It has everything to do with events beyond either of their control.

“Mike, it’s not your fault,” Chuck says. “It’s not anyone’s fault but Kane’s. You were, like, recovering from being cloned and you didn’t even know it. No wonder you didn’t have a lot of time for other stuff.”

Mike’s kicked-puppy expression remains, though.

“I’d understand if you… wanna hang out with _him_ more than me,” Mike says sadly. “He’s your _real_ friend. I just… have his memories.”

“Mike!” Chuck protests. “That’s dumb.” Mike looks up at him, startled. “You’re _also_ my real friend!” Chuck continues. “You think all the time we’ve spent together down here doesn’t _count_ or something? I went over the Detroit Doom Jump with you!”

“Yeah, but…”

“Mike,” Chuck interrupts. “You’re my bro. Like, yeah, I wanna hang out with Terra Mike, get reacquainted. But you and I have been fighting bots and driving insanely fast and saving each other’s lives for _how_ long now? That doesn’t just… disappear. Like you said. That’s all real.”

“It’s weird.” Mike frowns. “I… remember you. But I wasn’t actually there. Our whole childhood, I wasn’t even really there. All this stuff I know… I didn’t _earn_ it. I didn’t really go through it.”

Chuck frowns back.

“You still know me better than anyone,” he says carefully. “Doesn’t really matter how. It’s like…” He struggles to articulate a half-formed thought. “You and Terra Mike have the same chassis. You got your chassis in kind of an… _untraditional_ way. But the car you built with it is really cool. It’s different from the one Terra Mike built with his. You guys have different cars now. I’d like to see what Terra Mike did with his, sure. But… I still wanna ride with you.”

There’s a little smile growing on Mike’s face. “Yeah?” he says.

Chuck is relieved. He said something right. “Yeah!” he replies.

Mike’s smile grows broad and delighted. “Awesome!” he says. “Cuz you know you’re my main dude, right? Haha, if I’m a car, you can take a ride anytime.” He slaps Chuck on the back cheerfully.

Chuck really hopes the lighting in here is too bad for Mike to notice the way he suddenly flushes. _Wow,_ okay, that is _not_ what Mike meant. He ducks his head.

“Great!” he says. “Same!” Oh god, wait, no. He blushes harder. “I mean… Yeah! I gotcha, dude! We’re cool!”

“Rad,” Mike says, content, oblivious. He pushes over the plate of food. “Have some of this whatever! I’m starving.” He picks up one of the forks, hands it to Chuck. Okay. Sharing a plate is a totally normal bro activity, they do it all the time. Especially when Texas refuses to wash the dishes and there’s no plates left. Chuck takes the fork.

They eat their mystery meal in companionable silence. It’s not bad, actually. Some sort of pinto bean thing. Kind of mushy, but palatable. Maybe things _have_ changed. Maybe they’ll keep changing. Chuck is nervous about it, but it doesn’t have to be _bad._ Whatever happens, they can handle it. They always do.

Before they head off to their rooms for the night, Mike pulls Chuck in for a hug. And if he holds on a little longer than usual… well, Chuck’s not going to complain. He’s not going to be a _creep_ about it and ruin everything, he tells himself firmly. But he’s definitely not going to complain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Ammoth for the beta.


	7. Thicker than water

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW for a knock-down, drag-out fistfight.

The next few days are a blur. Jacob and Dr. Hudson triumphantly present a work-around for the coding of the gates that should keep the bots out for awhile. The Burners try to solidify the shaky alliance between the gangs and organize perimeter patrols, with Rayon brokering the meetings. Rayon’s a quiet guy at the best of times, but he seems a little shell-shocked after the Genesis pod incident. He supports their unification plans with subdued enthusiasm and the occasional subtle threat.

The Weekend Warriors needed very little convincing to do something that seems cool and military. Junior said he would only join in if Texas ate a weird bug, so Texas stared Junior right in the eye and ate it before Mike could stop him, and then almost threw up. So the Mama’s Boys are on board. The Duke (after Rayon took him aside and had some hushed words with him) agreed to employ a portion of his army of spy-bots to watch the gates for any activity. And the Amazons said they would participate in patrols as long as they could stick to their own territory and didn’t have to talk to any of the other gangs. “Because they’re all _gross boys,_ right?” Claire had said _sotto voce_ to another Amazon, who giggled and nodded. Chuck hadn’t expected Claire to be there, he didn’t even know she came down to Motorcity without Julie. She was as beautiful as ever, her hair piled up in two flamboyant buns, but Chuck kept his mouth shut and didn’t act like a weird creep for once. Claire thinks boys are gross, that’s fine. Chuck’s _totally_ over it.

They don’t hear from Julie. Chuck tries to call her a few times, but she doesn’t pick up. He tries not to worry—that usually just means she’s not in a place where she can speak freely—but he wishes she would call back. He’s still grappling with all the implications of Kane being her dad. Chuck never knew his parents, but he always imagined them being decent, kind people, maybe a little awkward and geeky like he is. He can’t imagine having a tyrannical, murderous despot for a father. Julie has a core of steel. On Thursday, when she comes back to Motorcity at last, she meets them at the hideout with all of her old flair, skidding Nine Lives into her parking spot sideways with a squeal of brakes. She hops out, grinning, and hugs them all. She doesn’t fill them in on what she’s been doing, though, or say much at all, really. She just asks, “Ready to see what’s going on at the Terras’?” and Mike nods at her, enthusiastic as always.

Chuck deliberately puts aside his worries for the moment. It’s just good to have her back.

***

When they drive up to the edge of the Terras' canyon, Mike and two other Terras are waiting for them at the ramp down into the ravine. Burner Mike stops Mutt and the other cars pull up to a halt. Mike gets out to greet the Terras, and the other Burners follow.

Chuck swallows hard as Terra Mike bounces up to them with an enthusiastic “Hey! Welcome!” He’s wearing next to nothing; just cut-off tan shorts, his necklaces, and swirls of body paint _._ It sure is... a _look._ His vine cast is gone, his arm looks completely healed. Following behind him are a large, older man with grey at his temples and a woman who looks about Mike’s age. The big man is wearing a gas mask. The younger woman isn’t. Her mouth is too wide by far. She has long, auburn hair in a braid.

“Guys,” Mike says happily, “this big lug is Abax. And this is Phyla.” Phyla makes a little waving gesture at them. “They’re my right hand people. They helped me file the paperwork.”

“Paperwork?” Dutch asks, puzzled.

“To challenge Kaia’s leadership. Under Article 37 of the Charter, leadership may be challenged if the current leader refuses treatment in cases of confirmed cognitive impairment that may impact decision-making.” He says it like he has it memorized.

“You guys don’t, like, fight to the death or something?” Texas asks incredulously.

Mike grimaces. “Well,” he says reluctantly. “Fighting… is one of the options, yes.”

Chuck stares at him. Mike shrugs, embarrassed.

“Some of the people who wrote the Charter were, uh… really mad at each other. It got in there. But that’s… not what we’re doing.”

“It’s not?” says a wry, familiar, doubled voice from above.

Chuck jumps, spins around. Kaia is settling to the ground silently, folding her wings.

"Burners," she says nonchalantly, nodding at them. "Good to see you again! Welcome back."

“Kaia,” Burner Mike says coldly. Terra Mike narrows his eyes at her, face darkening.

“I thought you were with Rall,” he says.

“It’s not Rall’s job to _babysit_ me,” Kaia sneers. “And what kind of host would I be if I didn’t come greet our _guests_ personally?”

Terra Mike draws himself up.

“They _are_ our guests. _My_ guests, and under my protection.”

“Don’t worry,” Kaia says. “I know the rules. Though I don’t know if they should apply to _him.”_

She looks Burner Mike up and down. Burner Mike glares at her.

“I knew it the first time I saw you,” she says finally, voice frigid. “You’re a _shadow._ A reflection. Without my boy… you’re _nothing._ You wouldn’t even _exist._ And now you’ve put all these ideas in his head, turned him against me… I should kill you where you stand.” Burner Mike draws in a sharp breath, clenches his fists.

“HEY!” Terra Mike steps between them. He glares at Kaia. _“He’s_ not the one who turned me against you. You did a great job of that all by yourself. You can't keep putting everyone in danger. This isn't you. You… you've changed."

"Don't _patronize_ me," Kaia snarls. "Don't you _dare._ You think I'm crazy? I'll show you how crazy I can be.” She strides up to Terra Mike, gets right in his face. “You think I’m going to make it easy for you to usurp me? I’m not.”

"Kaia," Mike says, not backing down an inch. "That's not… _ugh._ You're not _crazy,_ your eye is messing you up! It's doing things to your brain!"

"My eye is just _fine,"_ Kaia says haughtily. "It shows me the _truth."_

 _“What_ truth?” Mike asks, voice tight. “You can’t get revenge on Kane by killing his people. And for what? For something that happened before you were even born?”

Chuck frowns at this, confused. How long ago did it start, Kane dumping his toxo-tanks down here?

“He poisoned us,” Kaia growls. “He made us like _this!”_ She gestures at her face.

“But you gave me a _choice,”_ Mike says. “We _all_ have a choice. Kane may have poisoned our land, but we’re the ones who make the choice to stay Terras.”

“I thought the same thing,” Kaia says, “until my eye showed me the truth. He sits there in his tower and he shapes our whole lives. Everything we do, everything we are, is because of _him_ , and he doesn’t even know we _exist._ We’re just a footnote in _his_ story.”

“No,” Mike says. “We’re more than that. We take the thing he tried to hurt us with and use it to make ourselves stronger.”

“You can stay a footnote,” Kaia says snidely, “or you can rewrite the story. I know what _I’d_ rather do. You disagree. So.” She spreads her hands. “Here we are.”

“I don’t want to fight you,” Mike says wearily.

“It’s _my right_ to choose the method of challenge,” Kaia replies firmly. “So you’re going to. I’ll see you at the meeting.” She spreads her wings, lifts herself from the ground. Terra Mike stares after her as she disappears into the forest of mushrooms down in the ravine. Phyla puts a hand on his shoulder.

“Don’t worry,” she says. Her voice is painfully raspy, almost a whisper. “She’s all talk. She’d never hurt you.” Mike looks at her, brow furrowed.

“I’m not so sure,” he says softly. “I don’t think she’s the same person she used to be. And even if she wouldn’t, she’s got people who believe in her, who’d follow her anywhere.” 

“You know most of the Terras support you. Even the ones who are too afraid of her to say it,” Phyla says. “Deep down, they know she’s not right.” Mike doesn’t look convinced.

Abax turns to the Burners. “Well,” he says, in a deep baritone that rumbles in his chest, “welcome to the village. Sorry it’s not a more auspicious time.”

***

Burner Mike is uncharacteristically silent as they get back in Mutt and begin the descent into the ravine. After awhile, he says, “I don’t like this.”

“You and me both,” Chuck says, concerned.

“Listen. If things go bad, we grab Mike and make a break for it. You heard him. Kaia’s people might have it out for him, even if he wins or whatever.“

“Are they really gonna _fight?”_ Chuck frowns to himself. “That seems kind of… messed up.”

“Well. It _is_ the Terras we’re talking about here,” Mike says. “They’re pretty messed up in general.” Chuck is not comforted by this.

When they arrive at the village, the Terras are gathered in a loose crescent in the central square. There’s… a lot more of them than Chuck realized. He’s only seen ten or twenty together tops; this crowd looks to be at least a hundred.

The Burners position themselves at the far edge of the semicircle, making sure there’s no one between them and their cars. “Watch yourselves,” Mike says to the others softly. “If things go sideways we may have to get out of here fast.”

“Gotcha,” Julie says, and Texas nods.

“I’ll have Roth guard the cars,” Dutch says. “He can watch our backs, make sure we have an exit.” He taps a few lines into his comms screen, says, "Okay, he’s on it.”

“Thanks,” Mike says. “Everyone stay alert.”

The crowd murmurs. Chuck turns and sees that Kaia and Mike have arrived, at the opposite edge of the crowd. Mike is flanked by Abax and Phyla. Rall is at Kaia’s left side. The murmur dies down. Rall says something softly to Kaia and she nods.

Rall walks forward into the center of the semicircle. He has a cloth package in one hand and a binder in the other. He squats down, sets the package on the ground, unwraps a flat, rectangular object. Is that a _book?_ Chuck squints at it. Rall picks it up, holds it over his head.

"As dictated by the ancient texts,” he says, “I hereby call this meeting to order."

It _is_ a book. Chuck pulls up a tiny magnification screen, zooms in. It's got a title and everything: "Robert's Rules of Order." Chuck's never seen a book before. He doesn't get a chance to look at it more, though; Rall puts it back down on the cloth, wraps it up carefully, gestures. Another Terra emerges from the crowd and spirits it away. Rall opens the binder.

"Okay, let's not waste time," Rall says gruffly. "As most of you know, we are in the midst of a leadership dispute. Therefore, I have been called upon to facilitate this meeting in Kaia's place. The leadership of Kaia the all-seeing is being challenged by Mike the gator-slayer."

Dutch nudges Chuck. _"Gator-slayer?"_ he whispers. Chuck shrugs.

"The reasons for this challenge are confidential, as set forth in article 39 of the Charter."

"It's cuz she's _nuts!"_ someone yells. _"Ow!"_ There's a scuffle in the crowd. It stops immediately when Rall shouts, "HEY! We're in a meeting! No talking unless the facilitator adds you to the stack!" Kaia scowls, crossing her arms.

Rall glares around at everyone. Finally he says, "I move to table approval of minutes and other agenda items until after disposition of this priority business."

"I second the motion," all the Terras chorus.

"The motion passes," Rall says. “Kaia and Mike, step forward.”

They step into the semicircle, taking up positions on opposite sides of Rall. He consults the binder, flipping through the pages.

“According to the Charter,” he says, “there are three methods of deciding leadership when it is disputed. The challenged party chooses the method. The first…”

“I choose single combat,” Kaia interrupts.

“Kaia! Come _on!”_ Mike says, pained.

“Single combat,” she says firmly. “You want this, you’re going to fight for it.”

They glare at each other. Then Mike takes a deep breath, seems to steel himself. “All right,” he says. _“Fine._ Single combat. You got it."

Rall hesitates. “You don’t even… want to hear about the others?”

“Single. Combat,” Kaia says, eyes narrow.

“O… kay,” Rall says reluctantly. He flips through the binder again. “Here it is. Leadership may be decided by means of single combat. Neither participant will use any weapon or other aid. They will fight within full view of the assembly to ensure compliance with this rule. The fight will continue until one of the participants yields, or is rendered unconscious.” He pauses. “That’s all it says.”

“I’ve _read_ it,” Kaia replies. “I know what it says.”

“Kaia,” Rall says seriously. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

Kaia growls at him.

“Let’s get it over with,” Mike says grimly.

“Yes.” Kaia reaches down, without taking her eyes off Mike, and grabs a handful of the dusty soil. She rubs it between her palms, coating her hands. She claps. A little puff of dust rises into the air. “Let’s get it over with, indeed.”

Rall regards them both seriously for a moment. Then he nods, resigned. “On my signal, then,” he says. He backs away. Then he brings his fingers to his mouth and whistles shrilly, a long piercing note.

Kaia doesn’t waste any time. She dashes forward, sweeps a leg out, and tries to knock Mike off his feet. Mike dodges, fists up defensively but not making any move to attack. Kaia snarls at him, feinting and weaving, trying to get close. Then she leaps into the air, snaps her wings out, and aims a kick at his head. He dodges again.

For a while, neither of them seems to have any advantage, despite Kaia using her wings to get the high ground. Mike dodges and blocks, hardly seeming to take any damage, but he doesn’t press the attack; he just lets Kaia chase him around. The longer this goes on, the more twisted Kaia’s face becomes, livid with rage and something else that Chuck can’t read. At last, she charges at Mike with a scream, striking him with a flurry of blows and finally slipping under his guard. She grabs him by his tangle of necklaces, jerks him forward.

 _“Hit_ me, you coward!” she yells, yanking the necklaces so hard that some of them break. She lets go and rears back. Mike staggers, gets an arm up just in time to block her first punch. But he takes her second one right in the face, head snapping back. For such a skinny person she has a really mean right hook; she splits Mike’s already-cracked lip, painting his fangs with blood. Mike flails, jabbing a fist forward and right into her third eye. Kaia _shrieks_ and staggers back, clutching her head. Mike hesitates, face twisting in consternation, and Kaia lunges at him, punching him right in the solar plexus. Mike grabs at her, the wind knocked out of him, and they grapple.

That’s when the fight really starts.

Kaia twists out of Mike’s grasp, spinning around behind him, grabs him around the waist, and extends her wings, flapping frantically to lift them both off the ground. It’s clearly a struggle, but she hoists Mike into the air, ten, twenty feet. Mike writhes like a snake, but Kaia isn’t that interested in holding on; when they’re about three stories up she drops him.

Or at least she tries too; Mike twists as he starts to fall and grabs frantically for anything within reach. His flailing hand closes on the tip of her left wing, and she jerks sideways with a scream. They both plummet toward the ground, Kaia flapping her free wing erratically, kicking at Mike and shrieking wordlessly.

Mike lets go just before he hits the ground and rolls, his shoulder taking the brunt of the impact. Kaia tries to get aloft again, but ends up fluttering downward in a sad spiral, the wing Mike grabbed clearly injured. She hits the ground with a soft thump, falling to her hands and knees for a moment. When she pushes herself up, her injured wing won’t retract and hangs limply.

“Kaia!” Mike screams, distraught. “Stop this! Yield! Your wing!”

“Yield _yourself_ if you’re so _worried_ about me!” Kaia retorts, shaking the dirt off herself. “You think I’m _weak?_ You think I’m _crazy?_ If you could see what _I_ see you’d know better. You’d know what _has to be done!”_

“Kaia, no,” Mike says. “You’re _sick._ Your eye is _changing_ you _._ _Yield.”_

 _“Make_ me,” she snarls. Then she charges forward again, ducking down and headbutting Mike right in the gut. He doubles over and momentum carries them to the ground. Kaia rolls off him, jumps up nimbly, and kicks him in the side.

“Hey!” Chuck yells helplessly. Kaia kicks Mike again, but this time Mike grabs her foot and yanks. She falls, landing on her already injured wing with a crackling noise like mylar being crushed. Mike lurches up and forward, and they tangle in a chaotic muddle of limbs, rolling over and over in the dirt, grappling and grunting. Then Kaia pins Mike beneath her for a split second, darts her head forward, and sinks her sharp teeth into his shoulder. Mike screams like a wildcat and starts thrashing, trying to dislodge her. She finally lets go when he punches her in the side, and she rolls off him and jumps up only to charge him again, snarling. Mike twists to the side and grabs her, lifting her off her feet in a chokehold. She clutches at his arm, gasping for air.

“Can you _yield?”_ Mike growls. “Stop this now!”

Kaia twists, Mike’s grip slips, and she sinks her teeth into his forearm. Mike drops her. She scrambles up.

 _“You_ yield, you Judas!” she shrieks. She charges him again, relentless.

It goes on for a brutal, eternal interval. Chuck doesn’t realize how hard he’s biting his nails until the quick of one starts to bleed and he tastes the metallic tang. By the time both combatants are breathless and panting, circling each other weary and half-hearted, bruises are blooming on Mike’s chest and sides and his twice-bitten arm doesn’t seem to be working right. Kaia has the start of a black eye on her forehead. Mike is… god, he’s _crying,_ tears streaking the blood and dirt on his face. He doesn’t acknowledge the tears, even to wipe them away. Kaia feints at him and he flinches back. They're both clearly exhausted.

“You can stop this right now,” Kaia gasps. “Yield. Let me take down Deluxe, and Kane with it. Think about what he _did_ to you. You think he doesn’t deserve it?”

“I’m not,” Mike pants, “letting you do that. Not letting you destroy yourself. Not letting you destroy _us.”_

“You’re a soft-hearted _fool,”_ Kaia spits.

Mike growls and lunges at her and they go down, kicking up clouds of dust. When Chuck can see them clearly again, they’re on their knees. Mike has Kaia in a chokehold again, one arm around her neck, the other twisting her left arm behind her back, against her crushed wing. Kaia jerks weakly in Mike’s grasp.

"Yield!" Mike grunts when he catches his breath. Kaia scratches at him with her free hand, raking his face with her nails. He jerks her arm up further and she hisses, pulls her hand away.

“Kaia,” Mike says desperately. _“Yield.”_

“You _traitor!”_ Kaia shrieks. “I took you in! I was like a mother to you!”

“That’s why I’m _doing_ this,” Mike says, voice cracked. “You can’t go on this way. You’re going to kill us all. Please. _Yield.”_

Kaia _screams,_ a long, jagged howl. “You don’t _understand!”_ she cries. “It _hurts!_ The things I _see!_ And it’s _their fault!_ I have to… I have to…” She thrashes, but can’t escape Mike’s grip. She suddenly breaks down into gut-wrenching sobs. Mike leans his head forward, says something in her ear too softly for anyone else to hear. She catches her breath, then screams again, throwing her head back, slamming it into Mike’s face with a horrible crack. Mike just tightens his hold, nose gushing blood.

“Please, Kaia. Please!” he begs. “You remember that, don’t you? Do this for me, and I promise, we’ll take him down. But we can’t do it the way you’re doing it. It’s not right. Those people aren’t your enemies!”

“They… they didn’t _want_ you,” she says, bewildered. Mike makes a small broken sound, but doesn’t move. “You can’t… why do you…” She trails off. There’s a long moment of stillness.

“Kaia,” Mike says, almost too softly for Chuck to hear. “Do you trust me? Do you love me? _Yield.”_

Kaia slumps over. She’s breathing hard, still crying softly. But the anger seems to drain slowly from her, until she’s hanging limp in Mike’s arms.

“I… I yield,” she says at last. Her doubled voice is surprisingly clear and loud. It carries. “I yield. Mike. I yield.”

There’s no cheering, no booing. No sound at all from the crowd. Everyone seems to be holding their collective breath.

Rall steps forward.

“Mike the gator-slayer,” he says, voice low and serious, “you have bested Kaia the all-seeing in single combat.” He inhales, seems to collect himself, and says, “As our Charter dictates, I accept your leadership.”

He slowly lowers himself to one knee.

Then, one by one, the Terras start to kneel.

Mike lets go of Kaia and staggers up, swaying. She falls to her hands and knees, crawls forward, pushes herself to her feet, turns to him. Then, carefully, painfully, she also lowers herself to one knee.

“No, no,” Mike says, reaching down for her, gripping her arms. “Get up. Get up, you don’t have to do that.”

“I accept your leadership,” she says, head bowed.

“Get up,” Mike says again, doubled voice choked. She looks up at him, lets him pull her to her feet. He grips her shoulders.

“I’m _sorry,”_ he says, agonized. “Are you okay? You’re gonna be okay.” She ignores this, studying his face.

“Oh,” she says, reaching out and touching the blood caked on his upper lip. “Your nose. My poor boy.” Mike sniffs, pulls her into his arms. They hold each other, battered and bleeding, Kaia’s limp wing trailing on the ground.

Chuck wipes his eyes, takes a long, shaky breath. He looks over at the other Burners. Julie is gripping Texas’ arm. Texas has taken his hat off and is holding it over his heart, staring gravely at Kaia and Mike. Dutch has his arms crossed, shoulders hunched defensively. And Burner Mike… looks like he’s going to be sick. He looks over, meets Chuck’s eyes, looks away quickly. _You traitor._ Chuck can practically hear the echo of Kaia’s voice, _Kane’s_ voice, in his head.

After a long moment, Rall gets up and approaches Kaia and Mike. He puts his hand on Kaia’s shoulder, says something to her softly. She releases Mike reluctantly. Abax and Phyla move up behind Mike, supporting him as he staggers backwards. He puts an arm around each of them as Rall gently, tenderly, picks Kaia up and carries her out of the circle. The Terras stand, parting silently around him, letting him pass through with Kaia, and then the crowd closes up behind them, and they’re gone.

Mike stands in the center of the circle, supported by his friends. He lifts his head, looks around at the assembled Terras.

“Do you accept my leadership?” he rasps.

There’s a murmur as the Terras chorus, “Yes.” Some are reluctant, some enthusiastic, but no one says anything but “Yes.”

“Good.” Mike nods. He seems to have composed himself, despite the tears and blood streaking his face. “We’re going to move forward with the understanding that the Deluxians aren’t our enemies, and that revenge isn’t our goal. _Justice_ is our goal. _Freedom_ is our goal. That’s what we’re fighting for. I’ll meet with the leadership committee in the morning. For now… everyone go home.”

No one moves. Abax nudges Mike.

"Oh," Mike says. "Um. I move to adjourn the meeting."

"I second the motion," the Terras chorus.

"The meeting is hereby adjourned," Mike says wearily.

The Terras start to disperse, murmuring among themselves. Chuck lets out a long breath.

“Oh my _god,”_ Julie says. She seems to realize she’s clutching Texas’ arm and lets him go.

"That fight was not _cool,"_ Texas says. He sounds deeply offended. "It was _gnarly."_

"Shh. Guys," Dutch says.

Terra Mike has pulled away from Abax and Phyla and is walking toward them, limping more heavily than usual. He stops a few feet away, looks at each of them in turn. He’s smeared with blood, his shoulder and forearm oozing from Kaia’s bites, his broken nose and split lip making a mess of his face. He looks incredibly tired.

"So," he says finally. "You don't have to worry about the Terras anymore."

Burner Mike steps toward him, looking concerned, and reaches out a hand. He pulls it back when Terra Mike flinches. Burner Mike stands there for a second, unsure. Then he straightens his back.

"Actually," he says. "I'd like to. Um. Propose an alliance." He's got an unfamiliar formality in his voice, like he does when he LARPs with Chuck. "The new leader of the Terras is someone I, um. Greatly admire and respect. A brave warrior, with the best interests of his people at heart. I would be honored to enter into negotiations to solidify our… newfound alignment of values. The Terras could be… important allies, going forward, in our shared fight for justice and freedom."

Terra Mike quirks up the corner of his lip. He's tearing up again.

"I would be... honored as well," he says. "I invite you to attend the leadership committee meeting tomorrow to make a formal proposal." He stretches out a hand to Mike. Mike takes it, shakes it firmly.

Then Mike can't help himself anymore. He pulls Terra Mike into a hug, ignoring the blood smeared across his torso. Terra Mike winces a little. "Careful, dude," he admonishes. "I think my rib is cracked." But he hugs Mike back.

"Geez," Mike says next to Terra Mike's ear. "That was _rough._ Are you guys gonna be okay?"

"Yeah. We'll be okay. We've been looking into stuff we could do about Kaia's eye, but she didn't want to hear it. Maybe she'll change her mind, now. I think I _may_ have convinced her I was serious. Maybe." Mike smiles crookedly. "She's very stubborn."

"I got that," Burner Mike says, letting Terra Mike go.

“I’ll talk to her tomorrow,” Terra Mike says. “After we meet with the leadership council. I better give her some time.” He breathes out. “We're lucky Rall was… on board. He carries a lot of clout with the Terras who’ve been supporting her. With him accepting this, the rest will come around.”

“You think he’s really on our side?” Burner Mike asks dubiously.

“I’m not sure he’s on our _side_ , exactly. His first loyalty is to Kaia. But he wants her to be okay. He loves her.”

Chuck feels a weird pang. He identifies it, after a moment, as _jealousy_. Even _Kaia_ has someone. He shakes himself. Feelings are stupid. They all have more important things to worry about right now.

“Okay,” Chuck says. “This is good. We’re okay. We didn’t have to nab you and run off.”

Terra Mike laughs. “Was _that_ your plan if I lost? You guys. That’s dumb.”

 _“You’re_ dumb,” Burner Mike retorts.

“Your _face_ is dumb,” Terra Mike says.

“I’m gonna kick your butt even harder than Kaia just did,” Burner Mike says.

“Tomorrow morning, eight o’clock. Meet me here, we’re jumping some mushrooms. We’ll see whose butt gets kicked.”

“You’re _on.”_ The Mikes grin at each other.

“Man,” Dutch says. “You guys are insane.”

They turn their grins on Dutch.

“It’s part of our charm,” they say in unison. Then, “Jinx,” Burner Mike says.

Dutch sighs deeply.

***

Terra Mike insists they stay for dinner and spend the night. “It’s tradition to have a big dinner after a community meeting,” he explains. “And I need to do some schmoozing, make sure everyone’s settled down. Just sleep here, you’ll have to come back in the morning anyway.”

“Sure,” Mike says. “Is that cool with you guys?” The Burners look at each other, nod.

“Great,” Terra Mike says. “Abax, can you set them up with rooms and show them around? I’m gonna go get cleaned up.” 

“My pleasure,” Abax rumbles. Chuck stares after Terra Mike as he limps off, leaning on Phyla a little. He wishes he could do more to help. But Mike has his people. He’ll be okay.

Abax is a gracious host. He shows the Burners the communal kitchen, already set up with long tables for dinner. Then he takes them to a series of small thatched huts on the edge of the village.

“These are guest rooms. The one on the end is the bathroom. I imagine you’ll want your cars close by,” he says shrewdly. “You can pull them up in the back here. I’m going to the kitchen to help with dinner, but come find me if you need anything.”

“Thank you,” Mike says. While the other Burners go to retrieve the cars, Chuck stays behind and checks out a hut. It’s simple, but nice; a cot and a desk, with an assortment of glowing mushrooms illuminating the interior. He sits down on the front step and calls Jacob. Jacob picks up immediately.

“Hey, kiddo.” Chuck is relieved to see his familiar lined face.

“Hey, Jacob.”

“I’m assuming it went well?” Jacob asks. “Otherwise I imagine you would have started this call a little differently.”

“Hm. I don’t know if I’d say that it ‘went well,’” Chuck says dubiously. “But Mike is the new leader of the Terras, and nobody died, so.”

“Good to hear,” Jacob says, smiling. Chuck hears the familiar rumble of engines and looks up to watch the Burners parking their cars behind the huts.

“Here come the guys,” he says. “They can give you the play-by-play.”

Texas recaps the fight for Jacob, but without his usual exaggerated flair. He seems a little subdued. Mike fills Jacob in on his plans to attend the leadership committee meeting and propose an alliance with the Terras.

“Great,” Jacob says. “That’s great. I used to hang with the Terras back in the day, you know, before they started getting all cult-y. They’ve got some pretty wild stuff growing down there, I tell you what. If they try to give you something called the ‘wonderland special,’ do _not_ eat it.”

“Hey, Jacob,” Chuck says, remembering, “speaking of ‘back in the day,’ how long has Kane been dumping his toxo-tanks down here? Terra Mike said something about it starting before Kaia was born. And these mutations can’t have just… sprung up overnight. They’re too complex. I don’t understand the timeline.”

Jacob suddenly looks uncomfortable. “Well, it’s not the toxo-tanks _per se_ that are causing the Terra’s mutations. That cloning program you told me about isn’t the first time Kane’s tried to make a super-soldier. In the case of this particular nanotech genetweak, he didn’t like the resulting, uh. _Aesthetics._ When the Terra collective gave him trouble he just dumped the experiment on them. The nanos are persistent little buggers, they’re still in the environment down in that ravine. Get a critical mass before puberty and _bam._ Terra.”

“Okay, that's all very interesting... but you didn’t answer my question. I don't _get_ this," Chuck says, frustrated. "I thought Kane _built_ Deluxe, and Motorcity grew inside it. But there's so much _history_ here. How long…"

"Kids," Jacob sighs, "the timeline _is_ a little wild. Kane doesn’t really advertise this, but... he’s nearly three hundred years old."

They all stare at him. Julie makes a little squeaky noise, then slaps her hand over her mouth.

"He uses proprietary nanotechnology to keep himself going. He has a special division of R & D working on it around the clock."

"Aren't you guys… the same age?" Julie says faintly.

"Yep!" Jacob says carelessly. "But I'm down here now, no more nanotech for me. I'm aging normally again."

 _“Jacob,”_ Julie says, aghast. He waves a hand dismissively.

“Don’t you kids worry about me,” he says. “This old jalopy still has some miles left in it.” He slaps himself on the chest.

Julie drops her head into her hands.

“I didn’t _know_ that,” she says, half to herself. “How did I not _know_ that?”

“I told you,” Jacob says, “he doesn't really advertise it. He prefers that people think he’s just… timeless. It’s not like Deluxe offers history classes.”

Julie shakes her head. “My dad… is _insane,”_ she says softly. “We’re up against a three-hundred-year-old warlord. You didn’t think that little detail was worth _mentioning?”_

Jacob shrugs. “Never came up?” he says apologetically.

Julie rubs her temples. “Okay,” she says. “Okay. I’m gonna... sleep on that. We’ll… we’ll see you tomorrow, Jacob.”

“Sure thing. I'll see you then. ‘Night, kids.” Jacob signs off. The Burners look at each other.

“Man,” Dutch says. “This keeps getting more complicated. How are we _ever_ gonna take this guy down?”

“I’m working on some things,” Julie says. But she doesn’t elaborate. Dutch gives her a skeptical look.

“There’s still Vega,” Mike says. “Maybe if they have something we can use, we can… negotiate? Broker some kind of truce? There’s gotta be a way.”

Julie grimaces. “He’ll never _negotiate_ with the Burners _._ He thinks you pushed me off a housing pod.”

“Oh,” Mike says, “right.”

Dutch looks a little exasperated. “Yeah, you kind of backed us into a corner on that one. More fodder for his ‘big evil Burners’ propaganda campaign.”

Julie looks at him, startled. “I didn’t have a _choice,”_ she protests.

“You could have _told_ us,” Dutch says. “Maybe we could have worked something out.”

“I thought you weren’t mad,” Julie says, defensive.

“I’m _not,_ I’m just… I wish you’d been able to trust us with it sooner! You know I have family up there too.”

Julie snorts. “Your family isn’t… _Kane!”_

“I know,” Dutch says, a little more gently. “I know. But you gotta trust us, Julie. You said you were working on some things. What are you thinking?”

“It’s not really solid,” Julie says. “I’ve just been talking to... some people. But you guys don’t need to know yet. Not until I’ve worked out the details.”

“Julie,” Dutch says firmly, “no more secrets. You gotta let us in on your plans. We can _help.”_

Julie takes a deep breath.

“Okay,” she says. “But you’re not going to like it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to BirchBow (chaoticTenebrism) for the "wonderland special."


	8. Enemy of my enemy

“Before I introduce you,” Julie says, pulling up a screen, “you guys need to know that this person used to live in Motorcity. He doesn’t know Kane’s my dad; he thinks I’m just an intern. But he figured out I’m a Burner. So we’re lucky we share motivations. He came to me three days ago when I got back because he also wants to take Kane down and thought I might have intel.”

Mike’s eyes widen. “He’s not _blackmailing_ you or something, is he?” he asks. Julie grimaces.

“I wish it were that simple,” she says.

She sends a one-line message to an icon Chuck doesn’t recognize. <Can you talk?> is all it says. The Burners gather around her screen. After a moment, a message comes back.

<what>

<The guys want an introduction.> Julie types.

<and you think that’s a good idea?>

Julie frowns, irritated. <Can you talk or not?>

After a long moment, her screen flickers with an incoming call. A man’s face appears. He's blonde, even paler than Chuck, without freckles to break up the pallor of his skin. His hair is cropped tightly to his scalp, and his face is sharp and angular. He looks pissed.

“Guys. This is Jan Falke," Julie says. The man glares at them all, then fixes his gaze on Mike, crosses his arms.

"Hey, _Chilton,"_ he says, voice dripping with venom.

Mike startles.

 _"You…!_ JULIE! What the heck!"

Chuck hasn't heard that voice very often, and only through the filter of a suit of armor. But he recognizes it. _Oh_ geez.

"You may also know him as Red," Julie says, mouth twisting.

“Jules!” Mike exclaims. “Are you for real? Do you _remember_ how many times this guy punched me?”

Red laughs. "Yeah, that was fun!"

“You better not be messing with Julie,” Mike says to him warningly. “You tell anyone up there she’s a Burner and I’ll _end_ you. How’d you even find out?”

“I saw her with you down in Motorcity. It’s not rocket science.”

“When did you see her with me?” Mike says suspiciously. “Were you _stalking_ me or something?”

“It’s called _recon,_ look it up," Red says snidely.

Dutch interjects, eyebrows raised. "Okay guys, let's just take a second here for some deep breaths. I’m sure Julie has a good reason for bringing Red on board, _right,_ Julie?"

Red makes an annoyed sound. "The reason is, you’re screwed without me. Fuck your deep breaths," he says.

 _"Wow,"_ Dutch says. "Never mind." He looks at Mike. “Exactly how many times did he punch you? Cuz I’m gonna punch him _twice_ as much.”

Julie holds up a hand.

“Let’s have a talk,” she says coolly. “Red, Mike, we can help each other. We have the same goal. To undermine Kane, take away his power. We just have different ideas about how to go about it. If we coordinate, we’ll be stronger.”

 _“Coordinate,”_ Red says sourly. “I can’t believe I’m even talking to the dumbass who got my whole neighborhood wrecked.”

“I tried to _stop_ that,” Mike says, scowling. “I _really_ don't understand why you have such a problem with me! I _defected,_ remember?"

Red scowls back. "That was your _first_ mistake. If I could get the kind of access _you_ had when you were a commander, I could take Kane down in _days._ What do you think I'm doing up here, sucking up to that asshole? I'm going to wreck this whole place from the _inside._ Getting to punch you in your dumb face was just an unexpected perk."

"We're on the same side, you bonehead!" Mike sputters.

Red looks at him blankly. "That doesn't mean I can't hate your guts, Chilton."

“Julie,” Mike says with finality, “I’m not working with him.”

Julie looks exasperated.

"Not helpful, guys. If we're going to have a chance against Kane, you both need to get over it. The enemy of my enemy, and all that."

“Well, _that’s_ a nice thought,” Red says, “but I have actual important stuff to do right now. Can you consider us introduced?” He raises an eyebrow pointedly at Julie. “Call me if you want to get off your ass and actually start planning something.”

“Sure thing,” Julie says brightly. “Fuck off, Jan.”

“Fuck off yourself,” he says, and hangs up. There’s a shocked silence.

“Well, _he_ is a very unpleasant and angry person,” Dutch says, offended.

“Tell me about it,” Julie says.

“You were right,” Dutch says. “I didn’t like that at all.”

“I told you,” Julie says.

“Julie,” Mike says, “that guy wanted me _dead._ And he just sat back and let Kane unleash the Genesis pod! What on earth makes you think we can trust him? He’s _bonkers!”_

“We can’t trust him at all,” Julie says. “But we can _use_ him. He’s my dad’s latest... _special project._ He’s on track to get top-level security clearance. Even _I_ don’t have that yet. I’m going to try and fast-track him, I’m thinking of doing some sort of damsel-in-distress routine so he can ‘save’ me, that’ll get him in my dad’s good books. In return he’ll help cover for me when I’m doing Burner stuff. And we'll need that security clearance if we want to get anything done. We _can_ work together. We’re gonna have to.”

 _“Seriously,_ Jules?”

“We _need_ him,” she insists. “Don’t worry. It’s not the only thing I’m working on.” Then she looks sideways at Dutch. Dutch raises his hands in surrender.

“You know what?” he says. “I changed my mind. I don’t even wanna know.”

“If I’m keeping secrets,” Julie says to him, “it’s because I have a good reason.” She gets up, dusts off her pants. “I’m gonna check out my guest room.”

Dutch stares after her as she walks away. “Man,” he says, shaking his head. “Okay. I’m gonna go call Tennie. She and Bracket have been making some upgrades to the Cablers’ defense grid, I want to see how they’re doing with that.”

“I’m gonna take a walk around,” Mike says. “I kinda want to punch a bunch of stuff after talking to that guy.”

"You wanna punch Texas?" Texas asks, jumping to his feet. "Maybe we can find a sweet mushroom and have an epic battle on top of it!"

"That sounds _great,"_ Mike says.

“I’m just gonna hang here," Chuck says wearily. ”I’ll see you guys later." He watches them all walk off.

He stays out on the front step. He kind of likes the view; he can see the mushroom forest rising into the distance past the village. This place is very weird. But it has a weird kind of beauty, too, now that they’ve made a tentative peace with the inhabitants. So he just sits there and appreciates it, staring off into the middle distance, trying to absorb the events of the day.

After awhile, Julie opens the door of her hut. She steps out, sees him.

“Hey, Chuck,” she says. She gestures him over. He gets up, walks to her.

“Yeah,” he says. Julie looks thoughtful.

“How well did you know the director of R & D?” she says. “He’s on the board of directors, but that doesn’t necessarily mean much in terms of how loyal he is to my dad.”

“I didn’t know him that well, personally,” Chuck says carefully. “But I do know he was always filing complaints when Kane would have one of us, uh, _disciplined._ For all the good it did. I’m pretty sure he… looked the other way, when I defected. The map files that got me out; honestly, they were a lot easier to find than they should have been. I was afraid it was a trap, but… maybe someone left them fairly unsecured on purpose. You should talk to Dr. Hudson. Maybe he knew him better.”

“Hm.” Julie nods.

“Why?” Chuck asks. Julie gives him a guarded look.

“I might want to talk to him,” she says. “But let’s not get ahead of ourselves. I’ll talk to Dr. Hudson first.”

Chuck frowns. That’s not very forthcoming. But he doesn’t want to press. She’s got enough on her shoulders.

“Okay,” he says. “Just let me know if you need anything.” She nods.

“Thanks,” she says with a small smile, squeezing his arm. She goes back into her hut, shutting the door gently. Chuck frowns after her for a moment. Then he sighs, resigned.

Dutch may want more trust from Julie… but they’re going to have to trust her, too.

***

That evening, the Terras gather for dinner. Abax comes to fetch the Burners and escorts them to the communal kitchen. It's built around a small waterfall that pours from the far wall, feeding a stream that runs through the center of the room between the two long tables. Terras are filling pitchers from the waterfall and carrying them to the tables, which are set with clay plates and cups, huge bowls and platters of food down the middle.

Chuck is relieved to see Terra Mike sitting at one of the tables. He already looks better. His nose and lip are swollen and puffy, and his arm is bandaged up in a sling, but he’s smiling, chatting with Phyla. He perks up and waves when he sees them come in. Chuck walks over to him, weaving his way through the crowd.

“How are you?” he asks, a little tentatively.

“I’m great _now!_ Come on, have a seat!” Mike scoots over, pats the bench next to him. Chuck awkwardly swings his legs over the bench, folds himself into the space next to Mike. The other Burners start finding spots. Burner Mike and Julie end up next to Abax near the other end of the table, and Dutch and Texas sit across from them. Chuck feels a little weird, suddenly. He didn’t mean to get separated. But it’s too late now.

A Terra near the head of the other table stands up and starts banging on a metal triangle. Everyone starts taking their seats.

“That’s Dixum,” Mike whispers to Chuck. “She’s chair of the leadership committee.” Once all the Terras are seated and the noise dies down, Dixum clears her throat.

“Today’s meeting was very... interesting,” she says. There’s some uncomfortable laughter. “I trust,” she continues, “that we will not see its like for some time.” She stares around the room severely. Someone coughs. She turns to the person seated next to her. It’s Rall. “Rall,” she says. “Would you like to tell everyone what you told me?” He stands up beside her.

“Kaia wanted me to tell you all that she is in seclusion tonight,” Rall says. “She said she had a lot to think about.” Rall looks around, catches the eyes of a few disgruntled-looking Terras in the audience. “She also said we are to follow Mike as we followed her. The Charter was written by committee. Therefore it is not to be taken lightly.” His voice takes on a slightly threatening tone. “If anyone has _concerns,_ they can come talk to me.” He sits down.

“Thank you, Rall,” Dixum says. She turns to Mike. “The leadership committee is looking forward to working with you in your new capacity, Mike. Would you like to say a few words?”

Mike stands up.

“I’d be honored,” he says, composed. “As you all know, Kaia and I disagree fundamentally about many things. I don’t believe what she was doing was right, in regards to Deluxe. But I love and respect her. And I intend to do my best for her, and lead us all forward with integrity.” He looks around the room and says gravely, “You are more than just my community. You’re my family. And everything I do, I will do to keep you safe.” There’s a solemn silence.

Then Mike smiles. “I won’t keep you from your food any longer,” he says, and sits down without ceremony. There’s scattered applause and the silence breaks as the Terras start talking loudly among themselves, many of them leaning into the center of the tables to grab serving dishes and start passing out food.

“Wow,” Chuck says to Mike, impressed. “Nice speech.”

Mike gives him surprised little smile. “Thanks,” he says shyly. Phyla leans over from the other side of the table and drops some unidentifiable oval-shaped things on Mike’s plate.

“Stop being sappy and eat,” she says fondly in her quiet rasp. Mike sticks his tongue out at her a little, grabs a few pieces of roughly sliced bread from a bowl, starts passing things around.

Chuck very quickly finds himself in the middle of a complete feeding frenzy. The Terras eat like a bunch of _animals._ There are no utensils, and a lot of grabbing and snorting and open-mouthed chewing and audible gulping. Mike picks up one of the oval-shaped things, pops it in his mouth, and _crunches_ it loudly.

Chuck picks one up from the serving platter dubiously. "Uh… what _is_ this?" he asks.

"Ith a mussel," Terra Mike says around his mouthful, still crunching. Then he looks thoughtful, swallows. _"You_ guys probably shouldn't eat the shells, though. Just eat the bit on the inside." He takes the mussel from Chuck's hand, pulls the shells apart, and picks out a morsel of meat. He holds it out towards Chuck's face between thumb and forefinger, like… like he expects Chuck to eat it out of his hand? What the heck. These people have _terrible_ table manners, and Chuck's eaten with _Texas._ He reaches out, takes the bit of food from Mike.

"Okay?" he says, voice high. "I'll try it?" He puts it in his mouth, bites down. Mike watches him expectantly. It's… not bad. Savory, a little fishy, and kind of chewy.

"Mussels are great! Easy to farm," says Mike. "They're also natural water filters! We use them to clean out the village water supply." Chuck blanches, swallows his mouthful reflexively, then gags. Mike looks at him. Chuck stares at him wide-eyed, totally grossed out. Mike suddenly seems to realize the problem.

"Oh!" he says hastily. "Sorry. These aren't _those_ mussels! _Dude._ We wouldn't eat those. These ones we farm in the river." Chuck lets out a relieved breath.

“Smooth,” Phyla says. Mike throws the shell at her.

“So!” he says, turning back to Chuck expectantly. “Tell me all about being a Burner.”

Chuck doesn’t even know where to start with this. Then he remembers Terra Mike’s speech, smiles.

“They’re my family,” he says. Then his smile turns wry. “That doesn’t mean they don’t annoy the crap out of me though. Texas can be a real jerk. This one time…”

They talk all through dinner. There’s mussels, and bread, and a tuber-like thing that’s kind of sweet, and roasted green beans, and sliced fresh red peppers with a spicy dipping sauce that burns Chuck’s tongue. Chuck learns about the eighteen species of mushrooms and their uses. He cringes at the specifics of Mike’s encounter with the giant gator. He tells Mike about the metal-eating nanites, and the zombie plague, and the Climator. Chuck finally trails off after telling a long story about re-engineering Julie’s hologram tech so she could go invisible, and how they used it to scare the crap out of Texas. He realizes he’s been going on for awhile about the actual hologram specs, he might be getting boring. 

“Well, but. You know. That’s just… techie stuff,” he finishes awkwardly. But Mike is smiling at him.

“I didn’t understand half of what you just said,” Mike says. “You’re even smarter than I remember.” Chuck flushes abruptly, embarrassed by the compliment. Then, out of nowhere, Mike reaches out and casually tucks half of Chuck’s bangs behind his ear.

Chuck freezes. Uh. Okay! The Terras are a little more handsy than the Burners.

“I don’t remember you ever having hair this long, either. You’ve been growing it out, huh?” Mike says.

“Uh. Yeah?” Chuck says

“You think it’s long enough you could put it in a ponytail? I bet that would look cool.”

Chuck swallows.

“I don’t… know?” he says. Just out of scientific curiosity, he reaches up, pulls his hair back from his face. His bangs aren’t quite long enough yet, but he could put the rest of it up if he wanted. Huh. He hadn’t thought about that. Letting it grow is just easier than getting a haircut.

“I guess I could!” he says. Terra Mike gives him a thumbs up.

Chuck suddenly notices Burner Mike staring at them from the other end of the table. Chuck lets his hands fall, his bangs swinging back into place to shield him from Mike’s regard. Mike looks sort of... _suspicious,_ or something. Chuck turns his attention hastily back to his food, flustered.

Okay, so the Terras are a little weird! That’s not unexpected. They have bad table manners and no concept of personal space! That’s _fine._ Chuck can respect cultural differences. Hair touching is probably not a _thing_ for them, they hardly even wear clothes. Burner Mike has absolutely no reason to be giving him weird looks. He ignores that end of the table for the rest of the meal.

Chuck offers to help with the dishes after dinner, but Terra Mike waves him off. He rejoins the Burners and they all wander back to their huts and sit around outside for a while, talking about nothing in particular. Burner Mike sits next to Chuck, puts an arm casually over his shoulders at one point, leaves it there. Chuck lets himself lean on Mike a little bit. It’s been a long day, after all.

When Chuck finally crawls into his cot, he falls almost immediately into a deep sleep, and definitely doesn’t have any dreams about rough hands running through his hair.


	9. Seeing eye to eye

The next morning, Chuck wanders into the communal kitchen. He's filling a cup from the waterfall when the two Mikes come in.

Terra Mike is wearing another pair of scanty shorts. Aside from a still-swollen nose and some fresh-looking scars on his arm, he seems completely recovered from the injuries of yesterday. Burner Mike looks disheveled, his hair in disarray. They're both kind of sweaty.

"Uh. Hey guys. What's up?" Chuck says. Burner Mike splashes water on his face.

"Nothing, we were just messing around outside," he says.

Chuck gets a sudden, graphic mental image that he really, really, _really_ didn't need right now. Terra Mike slaps Burner Mike on the back.

"Yeah, Mike's totally great at mushroom-jumping!" he says happily. "Especially, you know, for a beginner." Burner Mike scowls. Then Terra Mike sticks his _entire head_ under the waterfall, throws it back, and shakes himself like a dog. Chuck is suddenly trying _very_ hard not to look at the rivulets of water running down his chest and stomach, oh _god._

He flicks a glance at Burner Mike, and Mike is eyeing him oddly. Oh _no._ Did he _notice_ Chuck noticing Terra Mike's abs? This is the worst thing that's ever happened to him, and he's including the time he almost got shredded by a giant vacuum cleaner.

"Well, I'm glad you guys are… having fun?" he squeaks, and _whoops,_ there's that mental image again, no no _no!_ "I'm gonna… go find… Dutch? I gotta ask him something," Chuck says faintly, and hastily retreats.

"Is he okay?" he hears Terra Mike ask.

"Don't you need to, like, get _dressed?_ For the meeting?" Burner Mike responds irritably.

"I _am_ dressed?"

By that point Chuck is out of earshot, face burning. What the heck is _wrong_ with him? He's _not_ going to get a stupid crush on the same guy _twice._ Terra Mike is kind of scary-looking, anyway. Those sharp teeth, god, Chuck doesn't want those anywhere _near_ him, especially not scraping gently down his neck to nip at his shoulder…

Oh god, what? Shit. Shit, _no._ Chuck quickly flees this train of thought entirely by actually going to find Dutch and challenging him to a hackathon that ends up lasting nearly an hour and producing a new hologram for Julie. He feels a little better after that, and resolves never to think about Terra Mike’s teeth, or any other part of his body, ever again. He can handle that. He’s good at not thinking about that kind of thing. He’s had a lot of practice over the past year and a half.

***

The two Mikes emerge from the leadership committee meeting in good spirits. Terra Mike gathers them all in the communal kitchen and fills them in. The Terras have accepted the offer of an alliance. Going forward, they’ll defend their territory if provoked, but they won’t venture into Deluxe.

“It’s a good start,” Terra Mike says. “From now on, we work together. I think…” He suddenly stops, eyes widening. He stands up, pushing his bench back from the table. Chuck swivels around.

Kaia is standing in the doorway.

Like Mike, she looks almost completely healed. There’s no trace of her black eye. Her wings are neatly folded away. She doesn’t say anything to the rest of them, eyes fixed on Terra Mike. She walks forward gravely until she’s standing in front of him. She touches the new scars on Mike’s shoulder, examines his forearm. He lets her.

“I got you pretty good,” she says softly. Mike smiles.

“You did,” he says. “I’m gonna be feeling those for awhile.”

“I didn’t think you’d… fight back, not really. I thought I was being so clever. But you called my bluff. My brave boy. You really think I should go to Cleveland? It means that much to you?”

Mike breathes out. _“Yes,”_ he says. “Your eye is _hurting_ you. Whatever you see… it’s made you different. Angry. That’s not the Kaia I know. That’s not the Kaia I grew up with.”

“They’re so… real,” Kaia says sadly. “The visions. When my eye first opened, I thought I _was_ going crazy. I saw the horror of our first generation. I saw the land suffering under the first onslaught of toxo-tanks. I saw so many of us _try_ to adapt and _fail_ and die screaming. Our world dissolved around us like a caterpillar in a chrysalis. I _saw_ it. And I wanted to _repay_ that debt in blood. I trusted the visions, I thought I knew what they were telling me to do.”

She reaches up with one hand, carefully covers the mad eye on her forehead, looks levelly at Mike with her other two eyes.

“But,” she says, “I trust _you_ more _._ My strong, brave boy. So. I’ll go. I’ll go to your medical center.”

Mike gathers her into his arms.   

“Thank you, Kaia,” he says softly. “I’ve given the researchers everything I can. Hopefully it’s enough, and they’ll figure out a way to help you.”

“I wonder if the nanos store memories somehow,” Dutch says softly. “Data from the past. I wonder if that’s what you’ve been seeing.”

“We don’t know why they do this to some people,” Mike says, still holding Kaia. “Make them change so much. It only happens once or twice a generation.”

“I thought I was _chosen,”_ Kaia says softly into Mike’s shoulder. Mike curls around her protectively.

“I don’t want you to be chosen,” he says. “I want you to be Kaia.”

They hold each other for a long moment. Then Kaia pulls away.

“Burners,” she says, looking at each of them in turn. “I suppose this means we are no longer at odds. I’m prepared to put away our old grievances.” She looks seriously at Burner Mike.

“Peace?” she says, holding out a hand. He takes it, shakes it firmly.

“Peace,” he says.

There’s a long silence as they regard each other. Then Kaia turns back to Terra Mike.

“So,” she says. “When do we leave?”

Mike smiles at her with a mix of relief and fondness. “The sooner we can get you there, the better,” he says. “I can be ready to leave tomorrow. I’ll arrange with the leadership committee to take charge while I’m away. Dixum can manage everything for a bit.”

“Chuck, you up for an adventure?” Burner Mike asks him, grinning.

“Uh… okay?” Chuck says. Honestly, he’ll do the dumbest things for this guy.

“How long is the trip?” Burner Mike asks Terra Mike.

“It takes about three days on deerback to get there.”

“Could we drive it?” Burner Mike asks. Terra Mike frowns.

“The roads aren’t like the roads here. They’re pretty rough, especially until you get to Toledo. They’re clear, though, so as long as you don’t go too fast, I think you could.”

“We should re-jigger Mutt’s suspension, and put different tires on,” Dutch says thoughtfully. “We can turn her into a sweet offroader, no problem. I might need all day tomorrow, though. Can you leave Sunday morning?”

“Okay,” Terra Mike says. “I’ll meet you at the garage tomorrow, once everything here is squared away. I’ll bring the maps I have and we can go over the route. Is that cool?”

“Sure thing. Julie, you’ll have to stay in Deluxe, right?” Burner Mike asks.

She frowns. “Yeah, there’s no way I could leave for that long. Plus I’ve got some new angles I need to explore.”

“Sounds good. Dutch, Texas, can you guys hold down the fort in Motorcity while we’re gone?”

“We can totally do that, Tiny,” Texas says assuredly, slapping Dutch on the back.

Burner Mike grins at them all excitedly. “Okay,” he says. “Time for a road trip.”


	10. Flesh and blood

Around eleven the following day, Chuck is in the garage, helping Dutch work on Mutt while Mike and Texas adapt some scavenged parts for her new suspension in the machine shop. He’s got his hands in the transmission when he hears a thunderous noise. Startled, he almost whacks his head on her undercarriage as he ducks out from under the lift to look up.

It's Terra Mike, riding a huge, white, fanged deer, antlers crowning its pale head. Its hooves pound against the pavement as it rushes toward him; Chuck had forgotten how _fast_ those things were. He scrambles backwards reflexively as the deer pulls to a halt in front of him, rearing up briefly on its hind legs. Terra Mike’s long coat billows around him as the deer settles back to all fours, stomps its feet. Mike grins down at Chuck from the deer’s back, reaches out a hand.

“Hey! Wanna go for a ride? His name is Leopold,” Mike says.

Chuck is horrified. "No way, Mike, I'm allergic to animals!" he squeaks, trying not to breathe in too deeply.

Mike frowns, hand still out. "Like, _all_ of them? I thought it was just cats."

"I don't _know,_ Mike, I haven't exactly tested it on a _deer_ and I don't want to start _now._ " The last thing he want to do is have another crippling asthma attack in front of Mike, it would be the kitten incident all over again.

Mike drops his hand. He looks a little… disappointed. Chuck squints. Is Mike… trying to _impress_ him or something?

Leopold leans down and snorts in his face. He flinches.

“Okay, sorry,” Mike says, abashed. “I didn’t know. Leopold. Back off.” Mike pats the deer on the neck and he raises his antlered head, eyeing Chuck dubiously. Chuck feels a little judged. He crosses his arms and ignores the deer.

“Where’s Kaia?” Chuck asks.

“She’s joining up with us tomorrow morning. She’ll meet us at the dome exit. I mostly wanted to come see what you were doing to the car. It’s so cool!” Mike jumps effortlessly down from Leopold’s back. Leopold is kitted out with large saddlebags, and Mike starts taking them off and piling them to the side. He takes the saddle off the deer, scratches him thoroughly on the back.

“Now stay,” he says to the deer severely. Leopold makes a high-pitched noise, but he lies down next to the pile of gear. Mike opens up one of the saddlebags for him; it’s filled with what looks like oats and hay. Leopold starts munching. Mike scritches him behind the ears. “Comfy?” he asks the deer. The deer eyes him sidelong and just keeps eating. Chuck’s heart does a weird little flip-floppy thing in his chest that he tries not to think about.

“Okay, he’s good for now,” Mike says, satisfied. He stands up, shoves his hands into his coat pockets. He’s wearing the utilitarian black outfit Chuck first saw him in; it’s better-fitting than his other outfit, no exposed midriff. His hair is longer and shaggier than Burner Mike’s; it’s falling into his eyes. He looks at Chuck through his bangs, green eyes crinkling happily at the corners. Chuck clears his throat.

“You wanna learn about engines?” he asks hastily.

***

They make progress on Mutt in record time, despite having to explain everything to Terra Mike while they’re doing it. Julie shows up in the afternoon and helps, mostly by raising her eyebrows and telling them what they’re doing wrong. When they take a break, Chuck pulls her over to sit between him and Burner Mike for a second.

“Did you end up talking to the director of R & D?” he asks.

“Yeah, a little bit,” Julie says. “I've got more things to ask him, but I know more about Kane’s longevity project now. The thing is, even tailored nanotech can't make someone immortal. Kane’s still aging. Just very slowly. That’s probably why he had me. He wants me to carry on his _legacy.”_ She scowls.

“Not to be weird, but why doesn’t he just clone himself, keep going as a download?” Chuck asks, puzzled.

Julie snorts. “I don’t think he would even trust a download of _himself._ He doesn’t want some _other_ version of himself running things; he wants it to be _him._ Having a daughter, though… it’s just another experiment. I think it feeds his ego to think his own flesh and blood could run the company when he’s gone. Someone he _molded._ That’s all I am. Some kind of ego boost.” She looks bitter.

“No,” Burner Mike says, startling Chuck. “I don’t think so.” He puts a hand on Julie’s arm. “I saw his face. When you almost fell off that pod. He was terrified. I’ve never seen him terrified of anything. He really loves you.”

Julie looks at Mike, oddly still.

“Maybe,” she says sadly. “I guess we’ll find out how much that matters.” She shakes off Mike’s arm, walks back to Mutt where she's raised up on the lift. Chuck and Mike look at each other. Mike raises an eyebrow, which means, _Do you think she’s okay?_ Chuck shrugs a little and raises his eyebrow back, which means, _I don’t know, but she’s tough._ Mike looks at her, straight-backed next to Mutt's exposed suspension struts. He picks up a wrench.

“Hey, I think you need this,” he says, going over and handing it to her. She smiles at him gratefully, starts tightening nuts. No one mentions Kane again.

***

When Mutt is ready to go, looking less sleek but even more kick-ass than usual on all-terrain tires and a jacked-up suspension, Julie pulls the two Mikes away from admiring her.

“Since you’re both here,” Julie says, “can I ask you a favor? I need you guys to talk to someone in Deluxe.”

“It’s not Red again, is it?” Burner Mike asks suspiciously.

Julie sighs. “No,” she says wearily. “It’s Tooley.”

Mike raises his eyebrows. “And that’s better… _how,_ exactly?”

“The little punchy guy!” Texas says over Burner Mike’s shoulder. “He liked my stories. You guys never listen to me, but he totally did. I like that guy.”

“Texas, he was interrogating you. You were cuffed to a chair,” Burner Mike says.

Texas shrugs. “Still.” Julie gives Texas an amused look, mouth quirking up into a half-smile, then turns back to the Mikes.

“I tried to explain the clone situation to him,” Julie says. “I think he sort of gets it, but he didn’t believe me one hundred percent. He said he wanted some proof. I told him I could introduce him to some other clones. He wasn’t even fazed when I told him it was Mike Chilton. When I said I could get him in touch with the Burners, he didn’t ask for details, he just wanted to know if Texas had done any more cool stuff lately. It was a little weird.”

“We had _fun_ that time he captured me,” Texas insists happily. Julie rolls her eyes.

“So,” she says to the Mikes, “can you talk to him?”

Burner Mike sighs. “I _guess,”_ he says. Terra Mike frowns.

“So Texas got captured by Tooley?” he asks.

Texas raises his hand. Julie gives him another amused look.

“Recap away, big guy,” she says, and Texas happily complies.

***

Julie calls Tooley on her screen, the Mikes looking over her shoulders and the other Burners gathered around curiously. Tooley picks up almost immediately.

“Julie!” he says. “Good to see you! Hey, have you noticed that our names rhyme?”

“Yes, Tooley,” Julie says, more patiently than Chuck’s ever seen her act with this dangerous goofball. “You remember Mike, right?”

“Yeah. We had him in the cell for awhile. Hey, how do you _know_ these guys again? I thought we were fighting them.”

“It’s a long story, Tooley,” Julie says wearily. “But remember, you can’t tell anyone I know them, okay? I’ll get in big trouble.”

“Don’t worry, Julie, your secret is safe with me! I’d never get you in trouble,” Tooley says sincerely.

“Thank you. So, now you can see. There are two Mikes.” She gestures to Terra Mike. “This is also Mike. The Mike you know is his clone, like we talked about. Kind of like his… identical twin.”

Tooley furrows his brow.

“You guys don’t look very alike, though. You look weird,” he says to Terra Mike.

Terra Mike covers his mouth with his hand.

 _“Oh,”_ Tooley says. “Wait. I see it now. Yeah! That’s cool.” He turns to Julie. “Okay, I believe you. But you said I’m a clone, too? So where’s _my_ cool twin?”

Julie takes a deep breath. “Kane… didn’t want the originals around, Tooley. Mike is the only one that… made it.”

Tooley furrows his brow.

“So… you’re saying... I _could_ have had a cool twin. But I don’t. Because Kane… got rid of him.”

“Yes,” Julie says sadly.

“That’s not very nice,” Tooley says, concerned.

“Kane’s not a very nice person,” Julie says.

“You said a bunch of other stuff,” Tooley says urgently, still concerned. “You said being a clone was good because I’m strong, but also not good because… Kane did stuff to my brain. Is _that_ true?”

Burner Mike leans forward. “Yeah,” he says. “He did stuff to my brain, too.”

“What... did he do to me?” Tooley asks hesitantly.

“It’s not really easy to explain,” Julie says. “We think he made you like him a lot. And… made you not able to think that well. He didn’t do it on purpose, exactly. That’s just how it worked out.”

Tooley wrinkles his forehead. He looks like a sad pug dog. “I…” he says. “Yeah. I remember stuff that…” Suddenly he looks _extremely_ distressed. He curls into a ball in his chair, pulling his knees to his chest. He sniffles, makes a little hurt sound. Chuck feels his stomach twist in consternation as he realizes Tooley is crying.

"I don't wanna talk to the other clones anymore," Tooley says to Julie miserably, sniffling. "I wanna talk to the _cool_ Burner."

"The cool… ?"

"He's talkin' about _me,_ duh," Texas says, shoving Terra Mike aside. "Hey, little guy," Texas says to Tooley, surprisingly gentle. “What’s up with the waterworks?”

“I _knew_ something wasn’t right!” Tooley says to him. “Things were different before.”

“Before what?” Texas asks. “Dish the deets to Texas.”

“Before I was a cadet. I remember it sometimes. I _didn’t_ forget. I should be able to remember _better._ Sometimes I forget words and stuff, and Mr. Kane yells at me.” His forehead wrinkles even deeper. “That’s not very… nice. He… he’s not very nice to me. I want to do stuff for him, I want to do what he tells me, but… he’s not very _nice!”_ The last word is kind of a wail.

“You don’t hafta do _nothin,’”_ Texas says with certainty.

“But he _wants_ me to do stuff,” Tooley says, brow furrowed. “Like…” Tooley looks at Chuck, seems to really see him for the first time. “You were an R  & D guy,” he says. “I saw your picture. You were one of the ones that de… de- _fect_ -ed.”

“Uh. Yeah.”

“Kane always wants me to beat up the R & D guys.”

“I know, Tooley, they told me.”

“Sorry. That’s not nice.” Tooley looks distraught. “Sometimes Kane tells me to do stuff that is… not nice. It… feels good, though, to do what he says. Even if it’s not nice.”

“Oh, _geez,”_ Mike mutters. He looks pale.

“Listen real careful to Daddy Texas,” Texas says intently. “Like I said. You don’t hafta do _nothin.’_ You know what we say down here? ‘Live fast, live free.’ You can live free, too, little guy. You wanna hang with us instead of with that jerk? We got big plans to be BADASS and AWESOME, you could help.”

“Yeah?” Tooley says, wiping his eyes.

“Yeah,” Julie says gently. “We could really use your help to make sure that Kane doesn’t do mean things anymore. Do you think you could help us?”

“Can you make it so I can think right again?” Tooley asks quizzically, like that’s not a messed up thing to ask. “Like I could before. I sort of remember being able to think better.”

Mike looks at Chuck, wide-eyed and stunned.

“Uh,” Chuck says. “I don’t know, dude. Wetware is… hard to work with. But… we could try?”

“Then yeah,” Tooley says easily, “I’ll help you out.”

“Thank you, Tooley,” Julie says seriously. “I really appreciate that. When I get back, we’ll talk more, okay? I’ll come see you.”

Tooley picks at his sleeve. “I’d like that,” he says shyly. “I’m always happy to see _you,_ Julie.”

“I’ll see you soon, then,” Julie says. Tooley smiles at her.

“See you soon, Julie.” He gives her a little wave. Julie reaches out, cuts the connection. She lets out a long breath.

Burner Mike stands up.

“Excuse me for a second,” he says. He walks across the garage, opens the storage room door, goes inside, and closes it behind him. There’s a moment of silence. Then there’s a tremendous crash. Chuck winces. There’s another crash, what sounds like a muffled scream, a clang, and a series of staccato thumps. Then there’s another silence. Mike comes back out, shuts the door. The knuckles of both his hands are bleeding.

“Okay,” he says, voice tight, “I’m good now. I’ll clean that up later. It’ll give me something to do. I’m going for a drive. I should test out that new suspension.”

“You want company?” Terra Mike asks, concerned.

“No offense,” Burner Mike says, “but you’re the _last_ person I want to talk to right now. I’ll see you guys later.” He walks stiff-legged across the garage, gets in Mutt, and starts up her engines with a roar. He peels out, gunning it through the garage door and skidding onto the street. Mutt yaws wildly around a corner, disappearing from sight.

Terra Mike looks upset. “Shit,” he says, staring after Mutt. Chuck feels slightly ill.

“Julie,” Dutch says, “no more calling people. It’s been extremely disagreeable.”

Julie sighs. “I’m _sorry,”_ she says. “I want him on our side. Dad won’t give him security clearance like Red, but he can help in other ways. And. I wanted him to know the truth. He deserves that much, at least.”

Terra Mike nods, still staring after Mutt. Julie puts a hand on his shoulder. Chuck can’t think of anything to say. And neither, for a long time, can anyone else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Turbo Sex Possum from the Motorcity discord for sharing car knowledge with me. Any mistakes in adapting Mutt for offroad driving here are because I don't know what the heck I am talking about LOL


	11. Stick in the mud

Terra Mike, subdued, gets Leopold set up in a corner of the garage with a large pile of old blankets and his saddlebag of food. Mike gets him to raise his hooves one at a time and works on them with a metal pick. Then he spends a long time brushing Leopold meditatively with a curry comb, raising puffs of shed fur. Chuck steers clear of that corner of the garage. The rest of the Burners, also somewhat subdued, scatter. Texas goes up on the roof to do some muay thai. Dutch goes wherever it is that Dutch goes when he wants to be alone for a bit. Julie goes to look for Jacob. Chuck can’t quite stop himself from hanging around in the garage, waiting, so he does some debugging Texas has been asking him to do in Stronghorn’s systems just to make himself useful.

When Mike finally comes back, he’s not driving as maniacally as he was when he left. He pulls into his parking spot and lets Mutt’s engine idle for a moment before turning her off. He climbs out of Mutt, looks over at Chuck where he’s sitting in Stronghorn, the door open, screens up around him.

“Nice job,” he says. “She’s running really smooth. It’s a little weird to have to go so slow now that she’s four-wheel-drive, but I guess I’ll get used to it.”

Terra Mike pokes his head around Mutt.

“Hey,” he says uncertainly. Burner Mike looks over at him, looks down, scuffs the ground with his feet, glances back up at Terra Mike.

“Sorry,” Burner Mike says. “It’s not _your_ fault.”

Terra Mike comes all the way around Mutt, tentative.

“I get it, dude,” he says, half reaching out a hand, then pulling it back. “I can leave for awhile. If you don’t want me around.”

Burner Mike scuffs his feet again. “Kind of the opposite, actually,” he says. “Can we go somewhere and talk about clone stuff? I wanna… see how we’re different. But also how we’re still the same. It would… it would help.”

Terra Mike raises an arm, hesitates. Burner Mike doesn’t pull back. Terra Mike slings the arm over Burner Mike’s shoulder.

“You got it,” he says. “See you later, Chuck.” Burner Mike nods at Chuck and they walk off toward the hideout. Chuck lets out a breath. They’re okay. Or at least sort of okay. Or they’ll _be_ okay. Actually, Chuck has no idea. But at least Burner Mike doesn’t seem so angry anymore.

Chuck finishes working on Stronghorn in the quiet garage, letting the code erase any other thoughts from his mind.

***

On his way to the kitchen to see if he can help with dinner, Chuck passes by the living room door. The two Mikes are sitting on the couch, heads leaned together. Chuck pauses for a moment, just to see how they are, but then stops himself from interrupting. They seem deep in conversation.

"Okay, so you're definitely more competitive than me," Terra Mike is saying.

"Ugh," Burner Mike responds.

"What? That's not a _bad_ thing! You're fun!"

"I just _hate_ that he has anything to do with how I am. That he changed me. That he… _designed_ me. That I could have ended up like Tooley."

"But," Terra Mike says firmly, "you _didn’t._ And he couldn't design what makes you _you._ He didn't design your fighting spirit. Or how cool you are."

Burner Mike seems to absorb this for a moment. Then he takes a breath.

"Do you ever get… nightmares?" he asks hesitantly.

 _"Oh_ yeah," Terra Mike says easily. "What kind?"

Okay, Chuck really shouldn't be listening to this. He backs away silently before the Mikes notice him, and quickly heads into the kitchen.

He finds Julie chopping vegetables while Jacob stirs a huge pot of what’s probably (hopefully) soup. “You guys want some help?” Chuck asks. Julie smiles at him.

“Yeah, can you cut up these potatoes?” She gets him out another cutting board and a knife, passes him the potatoes. Chuck starts cutting them into rough cubes.

“Did Mike come back?” Julie asks him, brow furrowed.

“Yeah, he’s talking to the other Mike in the living room. They’re cool.”

Julie looks relieved. “Oh, good,” she says. “I told Jacob about Tooley.”

“I knew that boy wasn’t right,” Jacob says, shaking his head. There’s a slightly uncomfortable silence while everyone focuses on chopping vegetables. Chuck passes a full cutting board of potatoes to Jacob and he adds them to the pot.

"What are we making?” Chuck asks.

“Mulligan stew,” Jacob says. “I already cooked the goat, we just have to add the rest of the veggies and then let it simmer for awhile.” Julie passes him her cutting board of chopped celery and he dumps it into the pot. Then Julie jumps up onto the countertop and perches there, swinging her legs.

“Hey Jacob,” she says, “can I ask you a question about my dad?”

“Sure thing, kiddo,” Jacob says, stirring.

“Did he ever… say anything to you about me?”

Jacob smiles as he measures out some spices.

“You mean, aside from updating me on your every move? It was all I could do to stop him from making Deluxe-wide announcements every time you burped. He’s always been proud of you.”

“Hm.” Julie looks half-concerned, half-pleased.

“Yeah,” Jacob says, a little more solemn. “Like I said. Having you made him… human again. I remember the first time he held you, when we decanted you from the womb. He got this look on his face like… I don’t even know how to describe it. I think even _he_ was surprised.”

“So…” Julie says hesitantly, “you don’t think I’m just some kind of ego trip?”

“I mean, it may have started out that way,” Jacob says. “But despite himself, he loves you, kiddo.”

“What if he knew,” Julie says gravely, still swinging her legs, thumping her heels against the cabinet doors a little.

“What if he knew you were a Burner?” Jacob shrugs. “I don’t know, Julie. He’s not the most… _forgiving_ person. I mean, you’ve seen how he turned on Mike. And he’s certainly not going to be mending fences with _me_ any time soon. The man holds a grudge.”

“Hm.” Julie looks mostly concerned now. Chuck finishes cutting up the rest of the potatoes, passes them to Jacob.

“What are you thinking?” Chuck asks her.

“I'm not sure, honestly,” she says. “I’m not too keen on testing the limits of my dad’s affection. Not when so much might be on the line.” She grimaces. “He might love me, but. I don’t think he can ever find out. Not if I want him to willingly transfer the company to me.” Chuck squeezes Julie’s shoulder. She shakes herself a little, turns to him with a slightly forced smile.

“So what were you working on in the garage?” she asks him.

They let the vegetables simmer, and talk about other things; Chuck fills her in on the debugging he did on Stronghorn. Jacob tells them a long, rambling story about the time he got disqualified from the Detroit River Pumpkin Boat Race for mounting a 100-horsepower outboard motor to his prize-winning squash (there wasn’t anything in the rules that said he _couldn’t_ ). This reminds Chuck of the time he and Ruby were captured by selkies during a summer campaign on the lake, and he tells the story of their daring escape via stolen canoe. After awhile, Jacob tries the stew and declares it ready. Chuck volunteers to fetch the other Burners. He messages Texas and Dutch; he doesn’t know where Dutch went, and he doesn’t want to go up on the roof to get Texas and accidentally get spin-kicked. Then he goes to the living room to get the Mikes. Immediately upon entering, he sincerely regrets volunteering for this mission. The Mikes are both on the floor, doing push-ups. Burner Mike is counting them off, a little breathlessly. Terra Mike is _shirtless,_ for no apparent reason.

Chuck, startled, is seized by a sudden full-body hot flush. Okay, what the _fuck? Seriously?_ How is he supposed to deal with this? His eyes travel helplessly along the muscles working in Terra Mike's back, in Burner Mike’s arms. This is _so_ unfair.

Terra Mike sees him and pauses in plank position.

"Oh, hey Chuck," he says casually, grinning. “We were just comparing physical attributes.”

Chuck has to quickly banish another really inappropriate mental image. Burner Mike gives Terra Mike a _look._

“Dinner’s ready?” Chuck says quickly.

“Oh, nice!” Terra Mike jumps up and reaches a hand down to Burner Mike, who takes it somewhat grudgingly and pulls himself up, dusts off his pants.

"If you want dinner you gotta put your shirt back on,” he says to Terra Mike. “No shirt, no shoes, no service. That's the rule in Mutt Dogs, and it's the rule in here."

"Aw, man. I don't even _have_ shoes. Guess I don't get any services," Terra Mike says. Then he _winks_ at Chuck. Chuck chokes a little. What the _heck?_

"Dude, I'm just saying," Burner Mike says, scowling. "It's a little weird for me when you walk around with no shirt, is all."

"All right, all right." Terra Mike picks up his shirt from the floor, pulls it on. "You happy now? You don’t have to get so uptight about it, shirts are annoying."

Burner Mike sputters. "I'm not _uptight!"_

 _"Bro."_ Terra Mike gives him a fond, exasperated look. "You are too. We were _just_ talking about this. Hey, you should come to the hot springs at the village sometime. Try to relax a little. They're really beautiful. Chuck, you should come too! It's clothing-optional."

 _"Uh,"_ Chuck says desperately.

"We are absolutely not doing that," Mike says.

Terra Mike looks at Chuck. _"Uptight,"_ he stage-whispers.

 _"Whatever."_ Burner Mike glares at them both. "You guys want dinner or what?"

“Totally, dude, I’m starving.” Terra Mike claps him on the shoulder cheerfully. “Lead the way!”

Burner Mike sort of reluctantly half-smiles. “All right, come on,” he says, “you weirdo.”

“If _I’m_ a weirdo,” Terra Mike says, following Burner Mike out of the room, “then by definition, doesn’t that make _you_ a weirdo? I’m just saying.”

Chuck has _almost_ recovered from the sudden onslaught of half-naked Mike. Honestly, by now he should know better than to expect Terra Mike to keep all his clothes on. He follows the Mikes into the kitchen, where Jacob and Julie have already started ladling out bowls of stew for themselves.

Texas comes clattering down the ladder in the hallway and skids into the kitchen after Chuck. He has his jumpsuit half off, the arms tied around his waist, and a white tank top on underneath. It’s very tight. Chuck is _not_ into Texas, but he can grudgingly appreciate the aesthetics. There are definitely more hot abs around here today than Chuck is really comfortable with.

“Hey, Lydia,” Texas says when he sees Julie, “check out this new move I’m working on. Ka-chaw!” He does a spinning high-kick and almost knocks Jacob over.

“Settle down, big guy,” Julie says quellingly, sitting down with her bowl. “No spin-kicks at the dinner table.”

Texas pouts. “But it’s _cool,”_ he says.

Dutch comes in. He has smudges of charcoal on his face, his sketchbook in his hand. “What’s cool?” he asks.

“THIS!” Texas yells, doing the high-kick again. This time he almost knocks _Dutch_ over, just barely grazing his afro with his foot.

“Wow, sorry I asked,” Dutch says once he’s patted his hair back into place. “What’s for dinner?”

“Mulligan stew!” Jacob says cheerfully. “Eat up, it’ll put some hair on your chest.”

They all settle in comfortably around the table with their bowls. Jacob gets out a loaf of bread and slices it up. Dutch shows them the latest sketches he’s been working on. Texas bemoans the lack of dragons. Terra Mike and Texas very quickly get into a competition over who can eat the most hot sauce that leaves them both red-faced and teary-eyed. Then Jacob upstages them both by eating a raw Thai chili without even blinking. Texas tries to eat one and ends up in a fetal position on the floor while Dutch convulses with laughter and Chuck winces in sympathy. Once he’s recovered, Texas declares the chili “tasty, but in a burny way,” and makes himself a huge soothing protein shake. Burner Mike and Julie complain about their Deluxe-bred intolerance for spicy food. Chuck expresses his opinion that _pain_ is not a _flavor_ and that the stew is just fine without any additions. They all have seconds. It’s an excellent meal.

Julie has to go back to Deluxe afterwards. She gives Chuck and both Mikes each a long hug and tells them to be careful. Chuck tells her to do the same and she gives him a rueful smile.

“I’ll be fine,” she says. “But you probably won’t even have _comms_ out there, I doubt the Motorcity intranet reaches much beyond the dome. Promise me you’ll keep these guys out of trouble.” She throws a sharp, fond look at the Mikes. Burner Mike shrugs innocently. Terra Mike looks puzzled. Chuck promises to do his best.

They see Julie off, then turn to preparations for the trip. They pack Mutt’s newly-enlarged trunk with supplies; sleeping bags, clothes, a water filter, enough full gas cans to get them there and back, some spare parts and extra tires just in case. Everything barely fits.

Terra Mike brought gear to use for cooking food over a fire; a metal rack and a couple of cast-iron pots. He excitedly shows them his fire-starting kit, striking a few sparks with the flint and steel just for fun. He declares lighters and matches “boring” when Chuck mentions that they have those too. Terra Mike also brought an assortment of dried vegetables and meat for himself and Kaia; they all put their heads together and make sure that between Mike’s supplies and the Burners’ canned goods, they have enough non-perishable food for a six-day round trip, with some extra in case they get stuck somewhere. Jacob packs them a cooler for the first few days with a bunch of questionable sandwiches, hard-boiled eggs, pickled beets, and leftover stew. Terra Mike shows them the route on the maps he brought; actual paper maps, marked up and annotated with little comments like “Apple trees here” or “Watch out for raccoons” in a few different handwritings. Chuck scans them in case they lose or damage them along the way.

And then, there’s nothing left to do. Chuck is surprised to realize he’s not that nervous. They’ve planned and prepared the best they can; the rest is out of Chuck’s hands. Dutch, Texas, and Jacob head off to their rooms for the night; Chuck finds himself between the two Mikes, idly admiring Mutt where she stands waiting.

“We should get some sleep,” Chuck finally says. He turns to Terra Mike. “You can have the living room couch if you want, that’s where Julie usually sleeps when she comes down for the night,” he offers.

“I’m good, I was planning to sleep out here with Leopold. Thanks, though. I'll see you guys in the morning.” Terra Mike wanders off in the direction of the recumbent deer. Chuck turns to Burner Mike. Mike is looking at him quizzically.

“You ready for this?” he asks Chuck. Chuck snorts.

“I guess we’ll find out,” he says.

Mike grins at him. “Cleveland or bust, bro.”

“I’d really prefer not to bust,” Chuck says ruefully, and Mike laughs and claps him on the back.

Chuck falls asleep that night with hopes for an uneventful journey. He knows those hopes are probably in vain. But hey. A guy can dream.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Ammoth for the beta. Thanks to the Motorcity discord for giving me ideas for Jacob's long rambling story (pumpkin boat races are a real thing).


	12. Journey of a thousand miles

Okay, Chuck was hoping the roadtrip would be uneventful, but he didn’t expect it to be this _boring._ Seriously. Are these soybean fields ever going to _end?_

They’re bumping along the rough road at a steady but slow pace, mostly managing to avoid the potholes, ditches, and huge cracks. Leopold is trotting along beside them, Mike perched on his back. Kaia is flying ahead. It’s been literal _hours,_ and all they’ve seen is endless soybean fields, tended by flying harvester bots that ignore their passage. The most exciting part of the day was leaving the dome. They got an early start, rousting Terra Mike from where he was sleeping in his pile of blankets, leaned against Leopold’s broad side. Terra Mike led them to the outskirts of Motorcity; the Burner’s hideout is pretty close to the edge, but it still took them nearly an hour just to get through the oddly silent former suburbia, through seemingly abandoned streets that the light and heat of central Motorcity doesn’t reach. Kaia met them at the dome exit, as promised. The dome itself was massively thick, the exit a long tunnel. The tunnel was once sealed off with airlock-like doors, but the one on the inside had been destroyed at some point, warped into a twisted shape and coated with char-marks as if from an explosion. They passed through the tunnel and out the other side, where the door was standing half-open. They emerged into brilliant sun and endless green fields of soybeans.

So far, it’s significantly less scary outside the dome than Chuck expected. The worst thing that’s happened is losing radio reception. Mike can’t listen to techno music anymore, which Chuck can’t say he’s particularly upset about. As Julie suspected, they’ve also lost comms; Chuck can still use his built-in screens and access anything he has stored in his databanks, but the Motorcity intranet is lost behind them.

Mike, a little bored by the slow pace, starts tapping on the wheel and singing to himself. He has a terrible singing voice. Chuck settles in for a _long_ trip.

***

The soybean fields finally peter out around the time they stop for lunch, shifting into overgrown deciduous forest and rolling hills. Sometimes they catch a glimpse of Lake Erie to the east. They travel through the day, making slow but steady progress considering the state of the road.

When the sun starts to go down, they make camp for the night near the ruins of Toledo. Terra Mike happily builds a fire and cooks dinner, reheating Jacob’s stew and roasting some vegetables on the side. After dinner, Burner Mike wanders off to walk around; he’s clearly a little antsy from sitting all day. Terra Mike tells him to be careful in the dark, and Mike waves him off, pulling up a screen to light his way. Kaia wraps herself in a blanket and stares meditatively into the fire. Chuck goes down to a nearby stream to wash the dishes. When he gets back, he looks around for Terra Mike and finds him sitting cross-legged on top of Mutt, looking out over the trees. Mike doesn’t notice Chuck approaching behind him on Mutt’s other side. As he gets closer, Chuck realizes that Mike is… singing. He’s harmonizing with himself, the two tones he can make with his voice twining together into a vibrato that sends a chill up Chuck’s spine. It’s a wordless song, soft and melodious. Chuck leans against Mutt, watching Mike’s back until Mike finishes the song, trailing off into silence.

“Hey,” Chuck says quietly, so as not to scare him. Mike turns, still a little surprised. Chuck is startled to see that his eyes shine in the moonlight like a cat’s.

“Oh!” Mike says. “Hey!”

“That was beautiful,” Chuck blurts.

Mike starts. “Oh,” he says. “Well. I just.”

Chuck climbs up Mutt’s hood and onto her roof and scoots across to sit next to Mike, hanging his legs over Mutt’s side.

“Your voice is pretty cool,” Chuck says. “You can control both tones separately? Do you have two sets of vocal cords?”

Mike laughs. “I don’t know, I haven’t looked?” he says. “But yeah, I can use just one if I want. I generally stick with the one I’ve always had, for talking. We do a lot of singing though, at the village, it’s fun.”

“The Terras are kind of different than I thought,” Chuck says. “I guess we met, like, a non-representative sample?”

“Kind of,” Mike says. “There was a core group that stayed loyal to Kaia, even after the toxo-tank thing. But most of them thought she’d gone too far. The leadership committee didn’t support her plan for the keystone, she did that in secret. They were already having some pretty fierce arguments about what to do by the time I came back. But. You know. Bureaucracy. Things tend to move slow when you’re used to doing everything by consensus. Good thing I came back ready to file some paperwork.” Mike smiles fondly.

“You really love them,” Chuck says.

“Of course. The Terras saved me. On the darkest day of my life, Kaia took me in, no questions asked. They’re my family. That’s why I don’t wear a mask. I’m not ashamed of how I look, of being Terra. I know it’s ugly, but I’m not ashamed. I’m proud.”

Chuck regards Mike for a long moment.

“I’m really glad you’re their leader now,” he says finally.

Mike gives him a startled smile. “Well!” he says. “I’m gonna do my best. I have the leadership committee to help, and Rall’s been surprisingly supportive. I think we’re gonna do okay.”

“I’m sure you will,” Chuck says, smiling back. They sit together in silence for a little while.

Burner Mike wanders back into the clearing. He sees them on top of Mutt. He walks over to the car, stopping by their legs.

“Hey guys,” he says. “What’s happening?”

“All quiet here,” says Terra Mike. “You see anything out there?”

“Just trees. I’m pretty tired, I’m gonna, um. Go to bed. Chuck, you wanna join me?”

Chuck is really glad it’s dark, otherwise his sudden blush would be completely visible. God, Mike never _notices_ when he _says_ stuff like that, he’s so _oblivious._

This time, though, Mike sort of pauses, clears his throat. “I was gonna sleep in Mutt, I mean,” he says. “You want the passenger seat? They recline now.”

Chuck takes a moment to make sure his voice won’t be too high-pitched when he says, “Yeah, that sounds good.”

Terra Mike jumps lightly down off Mutt’s roof.

“You guys are weird,” he says. “You finally get out from under the dome and you want to sleep _inside a car?_ Kaia and I will be out here. I’ll see you in the morning.” He walks off toward the light of the fire.

Chuck and Mike get set up for the night in companionable silence, brushing their teeth by the treeline and digging their sleeping bags out of the trunk. They settle down into their seats, reclining them back as far as they’ll go.

“So hey,” Burner Mike says, oddly tentative, “what were you guys talking about up there?”

“Not much,” Chuck says. “Just Terra stuff. I think he’s going to be awesome as a leader.”

“Cool, cool. Yeah. I think so too.” Mike suddenly seems flustered. “Wait. Is that, like… conceited? For me to say?”

Chuck gives him a wry look. “No, dude,” he says. “You’re a pretty good leader yourself.”

“Oh! Um. Thanks.” Mike smiles at him. “I try. I don’t know if I always… well.”

“Mikey, you’re doing great. We’re all _alive,_ for one thing. That’s an accomplishment by itself, considering the ridiculous crap Kane’s always pulling.” Chuck laughs ruefully.

Mike frowns. “I _guess,”_ he says. “I just hope we get something this trip that could turn the tide. We’re really taking a risk here. Who knows if Vega can even help. Or if they’d want to.”

“Either way,” Chuck says with certainty, “it’s a risk worth taking.”

There’s a bit of a silence. Then Mike says, “Thanks for coming, dude. I’m glad you’re here.”

“Oh! No problem,” Chuck says, a little surprised. There’s another silence. Mike reaches over, pats him on the shoulder.

“Sleep well, bro. Um. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Yeah?” Chuck says. “I’ll be here.”

“Me too,” Mike says awkwardly. “I’m… yeah.” Then he abruptly pulls the cord of his sleeping bag, cinching it around his face.

Chuck gives him a quizzical look but he’s already rolling over, shifting around into a comfortable position on the reclined seat. Chuck shrugs and adjusts his own sleeping bag. He cracks the window a little to get some fresh air, and drifts off to sleep to the sound of Kaia and Terra Mike singing in four-part harmony.


	13. Adding insult to injury

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: animal death

The next day is quiet, right up until it’s not. Kaia is flying ahead of them again, scouting out the road for any fallen trees or other barriers; they can't even see her. It all happens really suddenly. Chuck is peacefully tapping on his screens in Mutt’s passenger seat one minute, and the next minute Mike says, “What the heck is _that?”_ and Chuck looks up and sees an enormous hairy _monster_ emerging from the treeline. It’s as tall as Leopold’s shoulder, grey and shaggy, with black markings around its eyes and a bushy, striped tail. It rears up onto its hind legs, revealing disturbingly human-like front paws, and sniffs the air. Then, propelled by territoriality or instinct or just sheer cussedness, it shrieks, drops back to all fours, and charges at Terra Mike.

Vines whip around Mike’s arm, and his crossbow is out; he shoots a bolt at the charging creature, hits it in the chest. It barely slows. It snarls and leaps at him, knocking him off Leopold, who rears and snorts, wheeling around in a panic. Mike and the creature hit the dirt in a cloud of dust. There’s a scream, and then a spurt of bright red arterial blood splatters the ground.

Chuck shrieks, slapping his hands against Mutt’s window. “Mikey, oh my god, it got him! It got him right in the neck!” Mike is already detaching his spark staff from the gear shift as he slams Mutt into park.

Chuck activates his slingshot without thinking, retracts his seatbelts, pushes Mutt’s passenger door open, and nearly falls out in his haste. He can’t get a good shot from this angle, though, Leopold is right in the way, stomping around in distress. Mike is running around Mutt, then dodging Leopold’s hooves. Leopold bolts, tearing off. Chuck finally has a clear view.

The thing is _on top_ of Terra Mike, oh god, is it _eating_ him? There’s blood everywhere, but Mike’s still _alive,_ his arms are flailing around and… the thing isn’t moving. It’s just lying there on top of him. Before Chuck can get a lock on it, Burner Mike whirls his spark staff and slams it into the thing, rolling it limply off Mike. It flops over onto its side, revealing… a gaping hole where its throat should be, still spurting blood.

Terra Mike sits up. There’s blood dripping down his face, splattered on his neck and chest, soaking his shirt. He spits out a huge wad of fur and skin, takes a gasping breath, wipes his mouth.

“Ugh,” he says. “Gross.”

“Holy sheet,” Burner Mike says, lowering his staff.

Chuck can feel himself starting to hyperventilate. No, no, no, he can’t do this right now! But oh fuck, oh god, oh shit, he really thought Mike was going to die _for real,_ bleeding out right there in front of him… He leans over, puts his hands on his knees. No, no, everything is _fine._

“Are you okay?” Burner Mike says to Terra Mike, reaching down a hand. Terra Mike takes it, pulls himself up. “Yeah, I’m good,” he says. “Just a little squished.” He prods the body of the thing with his toe. “Try to bite _me…_ motherfucker better _respect,”_ he mutters. He looks down at himself. “God. So gross.”

“Oh my god, so much blood…” Chuck says weakly, trying to breathe normally. “I thought it got you in the _neck…_ I thought you were gonna _die…”_ He wheezes helplessly. Terra Mike notices his distress, wrinkles his forehead.

“Whoa, buddy, deep breaths,” Terra Mike says. Chuck tries to wave him away.

“I’m… _hhhh…_ fine,” he wheezes. "This just… _hhhh…_ happens sometimes!”

“It’s just a thing he does,” Burner Mike agrees. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

Terra Mike looks at Burner Mike like he’s crazy. “What… I’m _fine!_ ” He looks back at Chuck. “Are you having a _panic attack?_ ”

Oh, _great._ Just great. He had to _say_ it. Bad enough that Chuck _gets_ these, now Terra Mike has to make it sound like some kind of _condition_. He’s falling apart in front of both Mikes, and they’re going to do something worse than ignore it, which was honestly the best he could hope for… Terra Mike’s going to laugh at him, Burner Mike’s going to get annoyed… or, even more agonizing, they’re going to _pity_ him and decide he’s _useless._

None of that happens, though. Terra Mike comes over and puts his hand on Chuck’s back, strong and warm. “Hey, Phyla gets panic attacks, too,” he says, concerned. “I can help. Look at me, dude. Take a long deep breath in while I count to five. One… two… three…”

Chuck, a little shocked, does as instructed. After a few round of deep inhales, holding his breath for two seconds, and exhaling to the count of five, his racing heart starts to slow. Burner Mike looks on, a wrinkle between his eyebrows.

“Sorry, I’m sorry,” Chuck says finally when he’s collected himself. " _You’re_ the one who almost just died, you shouldn’t have to… I’m sorry.”

“Dude, it’s fine,” Terra Mike says. “You’re all good.”

Burner Mike is frowning at them.

“What do you mean, _panic attack?”_ he says. He looks… he looks a little upset. "Aren’t those, like, serious? Why were you playing it off this whole time?"

Chuck looks at him blankly. “Uh, I’m trying not to be a wimp?”

“But… you’re _not,_ you don’t have to just… pretend you’re fine!”

Chuck rolls his eyes. “Oh, _please,”_ he says. Burner Mike looks both taken aback and angry.

Terra Mike is staring at them, concerned. “Hey,” he interjects, “I didn’t mean to make this into a whole _thing,_ I don’t think Chuck really... _”_

Burner Mike rounds on him, interrupting. “You don't even _know_ him!"

"Uh," Terra Mike says, "actually I kinda do?"

"You've been around for like a _week!"_ Burner Mike snaps. "And you standing there all covered in blood is _not_ helping! Can you _leave_ for a second?”

Terra Mike raises his hands, backs away.

“Okay, Imma go… find Leopold. You guys… have a good talk.” He quickly retreats.

“Dude,” Chuck says, “what is your _problem?”_

“My _problem_ is, he can’t just come in here and…” Mike cuts himself off, starts again. “Nobody taught me about that stuff. Panic attack stuff. In the cadets. I didn’t know.”

“What’s your point?” Chuck says suspiciously, crossing his arms.

“If I’d _known,”_ Mike says, "I coulda helped too!"

"Mikey, come on. You got all weird about it the first time it happened in Motorcity."

"Yeah, because you were _freaking out_ and I didn't know what to do! You told me it wasn't a big deal!"

"Yeah, and you _believed_ me!" Chuck spits, angrier than he meant too. "You were like, _obviously relieved_ not to have to… pat my back and sing me a lullaby or whatever you thought I wanted."

"Dude! You told me it wasn’t a thing so I backed off!"

"I didn’t _used_ to have to… you used to be nicer to me," Chuck says. He hates how petulant he sounds, but he can't help himself. "When we were kids."

Mike's mouth hardens, lips thinning.

"Well," he says, voice dangerously soft. "Technically. That wasn't _me._ Was it. If I'm a just second-rate _copy,_ fine! Go hang out with Terra Mike! I guess Kane tweaked my _empathy module_ or something. Or maybe he took away my ability to _read your freakin' mind!_ How am I supposed to know this stuff unless you _tell_ me?"

Chuck throws up his hands. "Oh! Right! Tell perfect, fearless Mike Chilton that I'm a wimp who can't handle himself and needs a _babysitter_ when he gets dumb _panic attacks?_ That sounds _great._ Why don't I do that, and then go die in a hole immediately."

"Dude, I don't _care_ if you freak out or get scared! You scream in front of me all the time, it's _fine!"_

Chuck gets a flash of Mike peering in through Blonde Thunder's driver's side window, saying, "Is the screaming really necessary?"

 _"Is_ it though?" he says angrily. "You were a total jerk to me when you were trying to teach me to drive." That had _stung._

"I don't _want_ you to be scared of _driving!"_ Mike says, frustrated. "You'd be so good at it! Driving is the best! I want you to have fun!"

“Oh, I get it,” Chuck says coldly. _“Fun._ You probably regret not letting me keep the booster.”

“What… wait, that’s not what I meant!” Mike says, voice wavering. “Just because I gave you a hard time about driving _once,_ which, by the way, was after you pretty much _lied_ to me _,_ you thought because of _that_ that I wanted my best friend replaced by some aggro bonehead? You let KaneCo tech into your systems for _that?_ What were you _thinking?”_

Oh, _now_ they’re getting into it.

“I was _thinking,”_ Chuck says, higher-pitched than he would have liked, “that you might like having a best friend who wasn’t _scared_ of everything! And you _did._ Admit it, you totally did. You _loved_ driving me around without having to slow down, without my stupid freakouts _cramping_ your _style.”_

Mike looks sick. “Chuck, that wasn’t _you._ Sure, it was fun and all, but… that was before I realized it wasn’t _you_. I need you to be _you,_ to, to tell me when I’m being dumb, to keep me from going off the rails. I need _you.”_

Chuck snorts. “You need me like you need a hole in the head. I’m a nervous wreck all the time! Like I can be a real part of the team when I’m like… this.” He gestures down at himself. When he looks up, Mike has suddenly gotten really close to him, right up in his face. He looks furious, almost as mad as he got when they fought over the booster.

“That’s stupid! I _told_ you, you’ve _always_ been a real part of the team! How can you even think otherwise, you save my life literally every other day! There’s no way I could do this without you! And with the booster, it’s not _you,_ it’s just another reckless meathead! No one needs another ME!”

“That’s… that’s demonstrably untrue!” Chuck gestures wildly in the direction Terra Mike went. “You ARE another you!”

Mike seems to suddenly go cold.

“You think that’s some kind of _endorsement?_ Like, Kane thought I was so great he needed _another_ one?”

Chuck crosses his arms. “Well, no one’s lining up to clone _me,_ I can tell you that much! I’m probably too _defective!_ You don’t _get_ it! You’re not even afraid of anything! I don’t know why I’d expect you to understand!”

Mike freezes completely.

“You aahh. Ssss. Hole,” he hisses through clenched teeth. “You think I _want_ to be like… however you think I am? Kane _made_ me like this, he made me _dumb_ and _uptight_ and he _put stuff_ in my body, even my _body_ isn’t mine, and all you care about are your own stupid problems that you can’t even work up the guts to _talk_ to me about! What do you _want_ from me?”

“I _want_ you not to be an _oblivious jackoff!”_ Chuck shrieks, flailing his arms in the air. His head is spinning, stomach roiling with anger and hurt. He knows he’s going to regret this later, knows that Mike is in pain about the clone situation and it feels like a knife in his own gut, but he’s also furious, a rage built up over long empty nights in the wards, over painful, lonely recoveries in R  & D, over years of hiding and running and fighting and living in terror, and he was alone in _that_ even when Mike was by his side again.

Kane robbed him of his best friend. And put someone else in his place, someone too _perfect,_ too _untouchable,_ for Chuck to ever really have. The unfairness of it sends stinging tears to his eyes. Chuck’s going to die alone someday, probably soon, like a _loser,_ and Mike’s going to be there, and then he’s just going to shake it off like he shakes off everything bad that happens to them, and that will be Chuck’s legacy: _nothing._ Mike’s eyes widen at whatever he sees in Chuck’s face.

“You _left_ me,” Chuck spits. “You just… threw me away, like I didn’t even _matter_ to you. You left me _alone._ And now you act like everything’s _fine_ all the time, like we’re not fighting a war, like we might not die any minute! It’s like you don’t even care!”

He doesn’t know what he expects in response to that, but he certainly doesn’t expect what Mike says next.

“You’re a _liar,”_ Mike growls, voice hard. “You tell me you’re okay when you’re _not._ You _said_ you forgave me, but you totally _haven’t._ You built a whole car to pretend like you could drive, instead of just telling me you couldn’t.” Mike clenches his fists. “I _hate_ liars.”

“Well,” Chuck says, wounded, aiming for maximum pain in return, “I hate _fakes,”_ and as soon as the words leave his mouth, he regrets everything.

Mike stiffens. He doesn’t even bother answering. He just turns on his heel and walks away. Chuck stands there, stunned, adrenaline tingling in his extremities. He just fucked up. Oh god, he just fucked up so bad.

He sits down on the ground, hangs his head between his knees, and tries to breathe normally. He does the counting thing again, but he still doesn’t succeed for a long time.

***

When Terra Mike gets back with Leopold, Chuck and Mike are leaning against opposite sides of Mutt, both scowling at the ground.

“I found him!” Terra Mike says cheerfully. “And we found a stream so I got washed up.” He’s wearing his other shirt, the one that shows his stomach. Chuck doesn’t even glance at it. Terra Mike pauses, looks them over. “Uh… everything okay here?” he asks.

“Fine,” Mike says shortly, pulling Mutt’s door open. “Let’s go.”

Chuck gets in the car sullenly, buckles himself in. Mike revs the engine briefly, starts driving. Chuck can see Terra Mike in the side-view mirror, standing there with Leopold, looking after Mutt uncomfortably. He finally pulls himself onto Leopold’s back, spurs the deer forward, and follows.

There’s a long silence. Mike drives carefully, stone-faced.

“Mike,” Chuck starts.

“Chuck, just don’t,” Mike interrupts.

“But…”

Mike slams a hand on the steering wheel.

“JUST. _DON’T,”_ he growls, not looking at Chuck. Chuck shrinks down in his seat.

After awhile, Chuck pulls up a screen. He can’t concentrate on anything, but he taps at it once in a while just to look like he’s doing something. They drive for the rest of the afternoon in miserable, angry silence.


	14. A bone to pick

They make camp that night under a battered exit sign for Milan. Kaia is waiting for them there; she scouted out a good clearing and has already gathered some firewood. Terra Mike greets her with a hug, then tends to Leopold while she gets the fire going. Burner Mike and Chuck sulk around camp. Chuck unpacks some food, helps Terra Mike set up his campfire kitchen and cook dinner. Mike opens up Mutt’s hood and makes a big show of checking all the fluids before coming over to the fire and sitting as far away from Chuck as he can get. Kaia starts giving them the side-eye as they eat their food.

“So, boys,” she says, “anything interesting happen today?”

“Well!” Terra Mike says quickly. “I got attacked by a raccoon, for one thing.”

“Oh, dear. Well, you don’t seem any the worse for wear,” Kaia says, looking him over.

“Mike bit its throat out. It was gross,” Burner Mike says.

“My _boy,”_ Kaia says proudly, patting Terra Mike on the shoulder. He shrugs a little self-consciously.

“Leopold ditched me, I had to go find him,” he says. “And I’m going to have to wash my other shirt a little better before I can wear it again, I rinsed it in the stream but it’s still pretty nasty. Um. Nothing much else happened! Just, uh. Yeah.”

“Yeah, nothing _important_ happened,” Burner Mike says testily, narrowing his eyes at Chuck.

“Oh, right, because Mike totally almost getting killed isn’t _important,”_ Chuck snaps back. “No reason to get upset about _that.”_

“That’s not what I meant and you know it.” Mike pokes the fire angrily with a stick, raising a cloud of sparks.

“Oh, I _know_ what you _meant.”_

Kaia looks from Burner Mike to Chuck and back and then starts eating a little faster. Terra Mike clears his throat. There’s a long silence except for the sound of Kaia slurping and chewing loudly.

“Hey, so, what’s up with you two?” Terra Mike finally asks.

Burner Mike doesn’t answer the question; he just says, “Sorry I snapped at you earlier.”

Terra Mike looks at him quizzically. “It’s… okay?” he says. Then he says, “You know I’m not trying to… horn in on you guys or anything, right?”

This makes Chuck’s simmering anger flare up again for some reason.

“I’m _glad_ you’re here,” he interjects sullenly. “At least _someone_ understands my stupid bullshit.” Burner Mike glares at him. Chuck scowls back. He knows Mike has every right to be mad at him. But… Chuck _also_ has legitimate reasons to be mad, and Mike can’t just pretend they don’t matter.

Terra Mike looks really uncomfortable.

“Guys,” he says after a moment. “For fuck’s sake. I don’t know what happened back there but can you please be friends again? You’re freaking me out.”

Mike crosses his arms. Chuck kicks a pebble into the fire.

“Well!” Kaia sets her empty bowl down, puts her hands on her knees. “That’s my cue to retire for the night. Over there. _Way_ over there.” She stands up. “Anyone else have dishes that need washing? I’ll take care of it.” They all hand over their dishes, and Kaia disappears hastily into the trees.

“I’m gonna sleep out here tonight too,” Burner Mike says to Chuck shortly. “You can have Mutt.”

“Fine,” Chuck says, “that sounds great. You snore, anyway.”

Mike pokes the fire again, vengefully. Chuck gets up and stalks away to where Mutt is parked underneath the road sign, a fair distance from the fire. He climbs up on top of Mutt and sits on her roof, staring out at the dark trees, for a long time. He doesn’t realize that he’s unconsciously waiting for something until Terra Mike quietly climbs up beside him.

“Okay, what’s going on?” Mike says softly. “Mike clearly doesn't want to talk about it, and he's over there, like, disassembling his spark staff. He said there was hair in it, but I didn’t see any. I think he’s just looking for something to do. What the hell happened?”

“We got in a fight,” Chuck says morosely.

 _“Obviously._ You should maybe talk to him,” Mike says.

“He doesn’t want to talk to me,” Chuck mutters, kicking his heel against Mutt’s side. “We both...  said some things.”

“What did you say?”

“I don’t even want to tell you.”

“Bro.”

“I… I called him a fake.”

Terra Mike winces. “Ooof. Dude. That _is_ bad.”

“Well, he won’t admit that he acts like a jerk!” Chuck says defensively. “And he called me a liar!”

“Well,” Terra Mike says evenly, “are you?”

This gives Chuck pause.

“I guess… kind of?” he says finally. “There’s some stuff I felt like I couldn’t talk to him about.” He pauses.

“You wanna tell me?” Terra Mike says.

Chuck feels… oddly okay about opening up to Terra Mike. He’s seen Terra Mike get teary-eyed, heard him admit to emotions that Burner Mike would probably shy away from. He’s a little more like the kid Chuck remembers growing up with.

Wait. That’s stupid. This _is_ the kid Chuck grew up with. Of _course_ he’s more like Chuck remembers. Kane didn’t _mess with his head._ Chuck feels a twisting stab of guilt. It’s really not Burner Mike’s fault, that he’s a little clueless about anxiety stuff. And there were extenuating circumstances, when he... left. Chuck considers this for a moment. He’s still mad. But if he’s going to have any hope of fixing things, he might as well start practicing being honest now.

“I didn’t tell him that I.... I can’t drive,” Chuck admits. “And I _do_ say I’m okay when sometimes I’m not. I just… don’t want him to know how messed up I am! I’m scared all the time, and he’s just… not. I want him to treat me like part of the team, not like some useless nervous wreck.”

“You’re not a useless nervous wreck,” Terra Mike says, concerned. “I’ve seen you in action, dude, you kick major ass.”

Chuck blushes. “Yeah, and I scream the whole time! Like a _wimp.”_

“Um, if you’re that scared and you still kick that much ass, that’s even more impressive. Courage is about doing the thing that scares you _anyway,_ even while you’re scared.”

It’s a weird echo of what Burner Mike said to him when Chuck had been on the booster. And if _both_ Mikes are saying the same thing… maybe they really mean it?

Maybe. But he’s learning it too late. He already fucked everything up. At least _Terra_ Mike is still talking to him. Chuck sadly considers the years they lost. He leans his head over, rests it on Terra Mike’s shoulder.

“I missed you,” Chuck says miserably.

“Don’t do that,” Mike says softly.

“What?” Chuck raises his head.

“I’m not going to be your _replacement_ friend,” Mike says, a little harshly. “You guys need to work out your shit.”

“I… !” Chuck cuts himself off. He takes a deep breath. “You’re not my replacement friend,” he says, hurt. “I really missed you. But... you’re right. We do.” He pauses. “I’m gonna take a walk,” he says. “I need to clear my head a little.”

“Okay,” Terra Mike says. He watches as Chuck clambers down off Mutt, scuffs his feet on the ground.

“Chuck,” he says as Chuck starts to walk away. Chuck turns. Terra Mike’s eyes are bright points of light in the darkness. “I missed you, too,” he says. “But he defected to Motorcity partly because of you. He left everything behind, to do the right thing. Remember that.”

“Yeah,” Chuck says, a little taken aback.

“And turn on some screens. I don’t want you running into any more raccoons.”

Chuck pulls up two, turns the brightness to maximum. “Got it,” he says. He walks off down the road, back the way they came. He walks aimlessly for a long time.

When he returns to camp, the Mikes are sitting together by the fire. Chuck doesn’t approach. He figures he should give them some space. He just goes to Mutt, grabs his sleeping bag, and curls up disconsolately in the passenger seat. It takes him a long time to fall asleep. There’s no singing tonight.

***

When Chuck wakes up, he’s surprised to find Mutt already moving. He sits up groggily, raises his seatback, and looks at Mike, a little confused, from within his sleeping bag. Mike glaces at him from the driver's seat, looks away.

“We thought we should get an early start today,” he says. “I didn’t want to wake you up. Here.” He tosses a granola bar at Chuck. Chuck catches it, fumbling. He rips open the packaging, crunches it meditatively, still a little groggy with sleep. The sun is just starting to rise, tinging the sky a dusky pink. When Chuck is done eating the granola bar, he turns to Mike. _One_ of them has to do it first.

“Hey,” he says.

“What,” Mike says.

“Look,” Chuck says, “I said some things back there that were really stupid, and...”

“It’s fine,” Mike interrupts.

“It... is?” Chuck asks dubiously.

“It’s fine if you don’t want to be friends anymore,” Mike says.

 _“What?_ Mike, no.”

“It’s _fine,”_ Mike says. “Let’s just be professional about this. We’ll finish the mission, get back to Detroit, and then you won’t ever have to talk to me again.”

“Mike, that’s _not…”_ Chuck stops, frustrated.

“I’m not your _real_ friend,” Mike says. “That’s what you think, isn’t it? So. Ff. Uck off like you’ve been wanting too. I won’t stop you.”

“I’m trying to _apologize,_ you dumbass!” Chuck says, louder than he meant to.

“Well, you’re doing a crap job.”

“Hey, you were acting like a jerk _too,_ you said all kinds of things to me. You said my problems were _stupid!”_

“They are,” Mike says coldly.

 _“Fine,”_ Chuck says. “You don’t want to talk to me, fine. We’ll do it your way.” He crosses his arms. “Just drive.”

“I will.”

“Fine.”

“Fine!”

The last forty miles to the edge of Cleveland seem to stretch on forever.


	15. Fly on the wall

There’s a door in the road.

It’s a huge, blocky structure, matte black, spanning the highway and at least as tall as it is wide. It doesn’t appear to be supported by anything; it just looms over the asphalt. Terra Mike gestures at Burner Mike through Mutt's window. Kaia didn't fly ahead today, she’s riding behind Terra Mike on Leopold. Mike pulls Mutt to a halt, rolls the window down.

“We’re here,” Terra Mike says.

“I don’t see it?” Burner Mike says. “It’s just more trees past that door or whatever it is.”

“Oh, it’s there,” says Terra Mike. “Cleveland has a dome, but it’s not like Detroit’s. It’s camouflage. Can’t attack what you can’t see. The dome is semi-permeable, but if anyone gets near it, the Clevelanders know. I guarantee you they’re watching us right now. Come on, let’s stash the car. We can’t take Mutt inside. Pull her off the road, but keep back from the door, don’t get too close to the dome. We have to approach the checkpoint itself.”

Mike pulls Mutt off the road, all the way to the tree line. He pulls a tarp from the trunk and covers her, camouflages her further with branches he cuts from nearby trees. Chuck helps, wordlessly. Terra Mike helps as well, eyeing the two of them uncomfortably. Chuck sees him start to say something a few times, then change his mind. Kaia helps him take off Leopold’s saddle and saddlebags and stash them in Mutt. “Stay,” Terra Mike says to Leopold. Leopold snorts. They walk back to the road, leaving Leopold grazing calmly next to the car. They all approach the door.

“Okay,” Terra Mike says. “When we get close enough, they’ll come out to talk to us. Stay cool and don’t make any sudden moves.”

“What?” Burner Mike asks. Terra Mike takes one more step forward.

Suddenly, a swarm of what looks like insects flies out from around the sides of the door. They seem to appear out of nowhere, the air shimmering a little around the door like a heatwave. Chuck startles. The insects converge in front of the door, forming a dense mass. It’s a throng of tiny bots. The throng shapes itself into an eerie, vaguely humanoid figure. The figure makes a buzzing sound like a swarm of bees. The buzzing organizes itself into words.

“Welcome to the I-90 Checkpoint of the Republic of Cleveland,” the bots say. “Thank you for approaching an official checkpoint. Please identify yourselves.”

“I’m Mike Chilton,” Terra Mike says. “I was here for most of last year, at the nanotechnology research institute. I’ve come back with friends.”

“Please step forward and allow yourself to be scanned,” the bots say.

Mike steps forward. The swarm breaks apart and briefly surrounds him. He doesn’t move. The swarm gathers back into their humanoid shape.

“Mike Chilton,” the bots say. “You are a recognized entity. Your friends must identify themselves.”

“Kaia?” Mike gestures her forward.

“I’m Kaia,” she says. “I’m here to visit the research institute.”

“Please allow yourself to be scanned,” the bots say. Kaia holds still as they swarm around her and regroup.

“Kaia,” they say, “you are not a recognized entity. We will add you to our database. You have Terra biometrics. Is this the source of your desire to visit the research institute?”

“Yes,” Kaia says. She doesn’t elaborate. The bots don’t ask any more questions. They incline their head at Burner Mike.

“I’m also Mike Chilton,” Burner Mike says. “I lead a group called the Burners. We’re working against Abraham Kane on behalf of Motorcity. We want to talk to Vega.”

“Please step forward and allow yourself to be scanned,” the bots say. Mike steps forward and the bots surround him. Mike holds his ground. The bots reconvene.

“Mike Chilton,” they say, “you are a recognized entity.”

“How do you recognize me? I’ve never been here before,” Mike asks, puzzled.

“Our function is the collection of information,” they say. “We have collected information regarding the gangs of Motorcity. We have your image on file. In addition, we have information on Kane’s cloning program. We matched your phenotypes when Mike Chilton first arrived in Cleveland.”

“Figures,” Mike says sourly.

“There was some confusion,” the bots say.

“No one told me that,” Terra Mike says, taken aback. “I had to find out from the Terras.”

“We are not authorized to dispense information,” the bots say. Without elaboration, the swarm turns the vague form of their head towards Chuck. “Please step forward and allow yourself to be scanned,” they say.

Chuck steps forward and holds very still as the swarm surrounds him briefly. Their passage feels like a light breeze. It tickles. They reform.

“Chuck,” they say, “you are a recognized entity.”

“Does this mean we can go in?” Burner Mike says, taking a half-step forward.

“Not determined,” the bots say. “Please step back or we will activate our dissuasion function.”

“That means they’ll kill you,” Terra Mike says urgently, grabbing Burner Mike’s arm. Burner Mike hastily backs up. The bots buzz quietly for a moment.

“You wish to speak with Vega,” they say. “To what purpose?”

“Kane is trying to destroy Motorcity,” Burner Mike says. “We want to stop him. If there’s any way Vega can help, we want to join forces. We heard Vega is also against Kane.”

The bots buzz.

“Yes,” they say. “The Republic of Cleveland is resistant to Kane’s expansion agenda. We wish to remain an independent city-state. Inference suggests you may have valuable information on Kane. We have summoned a nearby representative of Vega to meet you beyond the gate. Mike Chilton of the Burners, please divest yourself of your weapon.”

“No way,” Mike says.

“You are in possession of a sparktech weapon,” they say. “Please divest yourself of this weapon.”

“Just do it, dude,” Terra Mike says. “We’ve got your back.”

Chuck realizes that the bots haven’t mentioned Terra Mike’s crossbow, or Chuck’s slingshot. Maybe their scans don’t pick up bioware or organics? Chuck certainly isn’t going to clue them in.

“Fine,” Mike says. He goes back to Mutt, pulls the tarp up from one of the doors, deposits the skull inside. He comes back.

“Please step forward and allow yourself to be scanned,” the bots say. Mike rolls his eyes, but he does it. They rescan him.

“Mike Chilton,” they say, “you are a recognized entity.”

“Yep,” Mike says, “sure am.”

“Mike Chilton, Kaia, Mike Chilton, and Chuck,” say the bots, “you are authorized to enter the Republic of Cleveland. Please be aware that you will be observed. We reserve the right to remove you from the city at any time.”

Chuck can’t contain himself anymore.

“You guys are cool,” he says. “Are you a distributed network, or…”

 _“Chuck,”_ Burner Mike says impatiently. Chuck wilts.

“Our function is the collection of information,” the bots say. “We are not authorized to dispense information. However. Your interest is appreciated. Please enjoy your stay.” The cloud of bots disperses, disappearing back around the door.

The door hisses open, sliding to the side, revealing the true face of Cleveland. 

The road continues past the checkpoint, between towering buildings with masses of plants growing on the walls and rooftops. There are greenhouses and gardens everywhere, solar panels glittering in every available open space. From the inside, the dome is just a shimmer in the air above the city. Chuck can see the tracks of an elevated train in the distance. Unlike Motorcity, it’s… quiet. There are a few people walking in the road, but other than that there’s a kind of peaceful stillness over everything. 

There’s a woman standing on the other side of the door, waiting for them in the middle of the road. Her skin is dark brown, her head shaved. Her scalp is implanted with what looks like hundreds of tiny fibre-optic lights; patterns of shapes and colors shift and morph across her head. She’s wearing baggy cargo pants, a white t-shirt, and a vest with a totally unnecessary number of pockets. She looks to be only a little older than the Burners, maybe in her early twenties. She regards them levelly.

“Mike Chilton, Kaia, Mike Chilton, and Chuck,” she says. “Pleased to meet you. I’m Ayana Wilkes, technician-agent number two-forty-seven of Vega. Welcome to Cleveland.”

***

Ayana takes them to a café down a little side street. Chuck is very surprised by this. He thought secret spy stuff was supposed to take place in shielded conference rooms or underground garages. Instead, Ayana pulls together some tables on the café’s patio and orders them a huge pot of aromatic tea. There’s no one else there but the barista. Kaia sniffs at the tea suspiciously.

“So,” Ayana says, once she’s poured them all a cup, “spill it. What have you got for me?”

“Wow,” Burner Mike says. “I can see why you guys are such effective spies.” Ayana grins at him, absolutely unrepentant.

“You didn’t come all this way without something. You’re here to make a deal,” she says. “And from the file on you, you don’t seem like the type to equivocate. I’m gonna make it easy for you and get right to the point.”

“The _file_ on me? Didn’t you find out we were here like two minutes before you met us at the gate?”

Ayana taps her head. “Neural implants make it easy to assimilate information quickly. I downloaded your files while I was walking over.”

“So how much do you guys know about us?”

“Not that much, to be honest,” Ayana says. “You’re a former cadet, now leading the Burners. You make custom car parts. You protect Motorcity from Kane’s bots.” She turns to Chuck. “You’re their programmer, yes? Also a former Deluxian?”

“Yeah,” Chuck says. “I was in R & D before I defected.”

“And you.” Ayana looks at Terra Mike. “You’re also Mike Chilton. I have to say, I’m surprised one of the originals made it out of Kane’s cloning program. We wanted more intel on that program because he was using pretty innovative bioware technology, but he kept it under wraps.”

 _“Innovative,”_ Burner Mike mutters bitterly.

Ayana give him a grim little smile. “Lots of things Kane does are _innovative,”_ she says. “That doesn’t mean they’re _good.”_ Burner Mike gives her a slightly startled look.

“And you, we don’t have in our files at all,” Ayana says to Kaia. “But the perimeter system said you were here to visit the research institute. I’m assuming you’re here for the same reason Mike Chilton of the Terras originally came to Cleveland?”

“In a way,” Kaia says. She reaches up and unknots the scarf around her head, lowers it. The eye in her forehead rolls around for a moment, pupil contracting, then focuses on Ayana. Ayana just barely tightens her hands on her cup.

 _“Okay,”_ she says, “that’s not a mutation I’ve seen before.”

“The eye is having some weird effects,” Terra Mike says. “We were hoping the researchers could take a look at it.” Kaia ties the scarf back around her forehead, takes a long sip from her teacup.

“I’m sure they’ll be thrilled,” Ayana says drily. She turns back to Burner Mike. “As for the rest of the Burners, we don’t have a lot of information. But we underestimated you at first. You've held out much longer than we expected."

"You could _help_ us," Burner Mike says. Ayana frowns.

"Not without jeopardizing our position. Cleveland was decimated during the nanotech plague years. Kane has more Elites than we have citizens. We're not going to march in there and start a fight." She smiles thinly. "The only reason he hasn't claimed Cleveland for himself is mutually assured destruction. We’ve got seismic blasters planted in Lake Erie. If he moves on Cleveland, the tidal wave could wipe Detroit off the map."

Mike gulps. Ayana gives him a wry look.

“Yep,” she says. "You're in the big leagues, now. Custom car parts aren't going to cut it. If you want anything from Vega, I need you to give me something I can _use."_

Mike bristles. Terra Mike leans forward, puts a hand on his arm.

“I think we _do_ have something, Mike. Our _tactical advantage?”_

Burner Mike furrows his brow a little. Then he nods, turns back to Ayana.

“If you’ve been watching us,” he says, “then you might know that one of the Burners is a double agent.”

“Yes. We don’t have too many eyes in Motorcity these days. The Duke figured out how to take them out. He’s very territorial.” She scowls, then continues. “But from what little we _could_ see… Julie Kapulsky. She’s closely associated with Kane. We’re not certain of their relationship.”

Mike grins at her. “She’s our tactical advantage. She’s Kane’s daughter. And he wants to make her the next CEO of Detroit Deluxe. We want to make that happen a little faster. We were hoping you could help.”

Ayana sits back.

“Huh,” she says, steepling her fingers.

There’s a long silence. The lights in Ayana’s scalp pulse and shimmer.

“So…” Burner Mike says. Ayana holds up a hand.

“Shh. I’m thinking,” she says. Mike sits back, nonplussed. After a short while Ayana raises her head.

“If you could install her as CEO,” she says, “what would be her position on expansion?”

“She doesn’t want to expand?” Mike says quizzically. “She’d just make peace with Motorcity and leave everyone else alone.”

“No more threat from Detroit,” Ayana says thoughtfully. “That would be good for Indianapolis as well. Maybe they’d finally agree to open their borders. And Pittsburgh would stop using us as a human shield.”

Mike blinks. Ayana slaps her hand on the table decisively.

“Okay,” she says. "Here’s the situation. We don't have firepower. We don't have soldiers. What we _do_ have is information. We collect as much intel on Kane as we can. It’s patchy; he’s detected our spy bots enough that he knows to take precautions, and he shields his private quarters pretty carefully. But he can’t keep them _all_ out of KaneCo tower. We have _decades_ of footage, including _great_ stuff we got recently with some new bugs. It might help you. And I bet I can get it for you. I’m going to set you up a meeting with the Witnesses.”

"The who?"

"They're the collective that heads Vega. They're a series of individuals networked together via neural interfaces. Their level of computing power is through the roof. They can authorize me to release the file on Kane. Which is exactly what I intend to ask them to do." She stands up. "Meet me back here at six o'clock. Enjoy your tea." She waves at the the barista. "Put it on my tab," she calls. The barista nods like he's used to this. Then Ayana pushes her chair back and strides off without even a backward glance.

Burner Mike narrows his eyes after her. Kaia grins. "Well, _she_ doesn't fuck around," she says happily. "I _like_ her." She takes another long sip of her tea. "This is good," she says cheerfully, picking up the pot and refilling her cup. "Anyone else want some more?" Terra Mike holds out his cup. Kaia pours him more tea. 

If someone had told Chuck a week ago that he'd be having a _tea party_ with _Kaia_ in _Cleveland,_ he would have laughed in their face. He sighs and holds out his cup, accepting his fate.


	16. Costs an arm and a leg

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: amputation

It takes a few hours to get Kaia settled in at the research institute. It’s a bit of a walk from the café and the checkpoint. There don’t seem to be any cars in Cleveland; only walking paths, the occasional person on a bicycle, and a network of elevated trains. The city feels very empty. It makes for a long, peaceful walk, which Chuck would enjoy more if he wasn’t uncomfortably aware of Burner Mike avoiding him, staying on the far side of Kaia and Terra Mike.

When they get to the research institute, another building of glass and brick and plants, Burner Mike and Chuck let Terra Mike take Kaia in alone, to introduce her to everyone and say goodbye for the time being. Mike wanders off to walk around. Chuck waits in the palatial lobby, trying to organize some files he thinks might come in useful for their meeting. He pulls up everything he has on Kane in his databanks, in case the Witnesses—whoever or whatever they are—need more information. He’s a little dismayed to find that he doesn’t have much of value. They’ve been so focused on _fighting_ Kane that they haven’t really collected much intel on him. Chuck hopes information about Julie will be enough, so he pulls up and organizes that as well. Mike comes back after a while and sits on the opposite side of the lobby. Chuck eyes him through his screens but doesn’t try to talk to him. If he still wants to be mad, that’s his prerogative.

Terra Mike eventually collects them and they head back in the direction of the café. Terra Mike is quiet, seemingly lost in his own thoughts. He prudently brought some Cleveland currency, some kind of chit system, and buys them a quick dinner from a food cart without saying much to either of them. By the time they get back to the café, they’re just in time to meet Ayana, who’s leaning over the counter talking to the same barista. She greets them with a wave.

“I got us a meeting,” she tells them. “The Witnesses are interested enough to come in person. We’re meeting them at one of our data analysis facilities.”

She leads them on another long walk, to a part of the city that seems even less inhabited, more industrial, filled with long low warehouses. The building she leads them to is indistinguishable from any of the others, which Chuck supposes makes sense for a secretive organization. She buzzes them in with a retinal scanner, leads them down a long hallway, and ushers them into a conference room. This is more like what Chuck was expecting. They settle into seats around a long table.

“The Witnesses are on their way,” she says. “They’ll be here shortly. It’s a privilege to meet them in person. Please be respectful. Their title is Mx.”

“Got it,” Burner Mike says. They wait. Burner Mike fidgets. Chuck tries not to. Terra Mike closes his eyes and sits back in his chair. Ayana taps her fingers a little as the lights in her scalp weave patterns. At last, there’s a knock. Ayana gets up and opens the door. A figure comes into the room.

It’s very strange. It looks… pixelated, like it’s being censored in real-time. Chuck’s eyes have a hard time focusing on it. It seems to be wearing a long grey robe. A second figure, identical, enters behind it, then a third, then a fourth, then a fifth. They file into the room and stand at the head of the table, one figure in front, two rows of two behind it.

“Welcome, Mx.,” Ayana says, shutting the door behind them. “Thank you for meeting with us.”

“Two-forty-seven,” the lead figure says. Its voice sounds like it’s been run through several distortion programs. “You called us here with some urgency. You are an above-average technician-agent, but you are known to be impetuous. We hope you have not overstated the importance of this situation.”

Ayana narrows her eyes, taking her seat at the conference table. She looks slightly offended. “I wouldn’t waste your time, Mx.,” she says. “An opportunity has presented itself. These people are representatives of the Burners, the gang that has been successfully protecting Motorcity from Abraham Kane for nearly a year and a half. It turns out they have a person on the inside; Julie Kapulsky is Kane’s daughter, no less, and he has succession plans involving her. They want to accelerate her appointment as CEO of Detroit Deluxe. She has no intention of carrying out her father’s expansion agenda. This could radically change the landscape of the Great Lakes Territories.”

There’s a long pause. “This assertion fits our data,” the lead figure finally says. “But what assurances can you give us that one, Julie Kapulsky is actually Kane’s daughter, and two, that her agenda is what you claim?”

Burner Mike looks uncomfortably at Terra Mike. “How do we prove that Julie is really Kane’s daughter? I… I don’t know?”

“Um,” Chuck says. Burner Mike gives him a sharp look. Chuck straightens his back a little and continues.

“I have the data from Julie’s bone biopsy. I downloaded it from Jacob in case we needed to take any more samples, for comparison. It, uh. It includes a DNA sequence.” He turns to the figure, pulls up a screen to display the data, expands it, and pushes it carefully across the room to the lead figure. The figure examines the screen, scrolling quickly through the entire nucleotide sequence.

“Ninety-nine percent chance of paternity,” the figure finally says. “Interesting. We did not know Kane was interested in reproduction.” Burner Mike makes a weird face.

“As for her agenda,” Ayana says, “we have ample proof of her resistance to Kane via the information we have on the Burners. She’s been working against him and protecting Motorcity as a double agent. There’s no reason to believe she wouldn’t abandon Kane’s expansion plans and focus on creating alliances within her own city. And if she doesn’t, we have the same leverage against her as we do against Kane. We have nothing to lose, here.”

“Julie wouldn’t…” Mike starts. The figure holds up a hand.

“You are clearly loyal to each other,” it says. “We cannot afford such trust. However. Two-forty-seven, your analysis is correct.” It turns back to Mike. “What is your plan to install her as CEO?”

Mike looks caught off guard. Ayana interjects smoothly.

“Using the file on Kane, the Burners can release compromising information to the citizens of Deluxe to generate unrest, or pressure Kane to peacefully step down. The details are still in development. They are currently unable to contact the rest of their team.” Mike gives her a grateful look, which she ignores.

“This is a risk, two-forty-seven. We can give you the file on Kane,” says the lead figure. “But if you fail and our involvement is discovered, there may be consequences for Cleveland. We need something more to make the risk worthwhile.”

“Mx.,” Ayana says insistently, “these people are coming to you in good faith. We’re talking about changing the balance of power. Detroit could be an ally, not an enemy.”

“We need something more to make the risk worthwhile,” the second figure says, cadence identical. Ayana frowns, looking concerned.

“Like what?” Chuck asks suspiciously.

The figures turn their heads in unison. They’re looking at Burner Mike. The lights in Ayana’s scalp pulse once, twice.

“What,” Mike says.

“Kane’s cloning program utilized highly advanced bioware technology,” says the figure in front. “We wish to replicate this technology. We have been unable to obtain samples. We need further objects of study in order to continue our efforts in that direction.”  

“What are you saying?” Mike asks. He looks slightly pale.

The pixelated figure turns to Chuck. “We would like to examine this clone,” it says. “We will attempt to minimize damage.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Chuck says. “No way! And don’t talk about him like he’s not here!”

“Yeah,” Mike says, voice tight. “I can make up my own mind. What do you want to examine.”

The figure turns to him. “We will examine the body,” it says.

“Mx.,” Ayana says, uncharacteristically hesitant, “I don’t think that’s…”

“Exactly… how,” Mike interrupts.

“Surgery will be necessary. We will remove implants for study. You may lose some functionality.”

“No,” Chuck says, horrified.

“What… kind of functionality,” Mike says.

“Uncertain,” the figure responds. “These are not implants we are familiar with. Their integration into the body may be minimal. Or maximal. It is unknown.”

“No! Mikey! You can’t be thinking about this!”

“Do I have a choice?” Mike asks grimly.

The figures are silent for a moment.

“Perceptive,” the lead figure says.

Chuck slams his hand on the table.

“We’re not doing this,” he says to Mike. “We don’t need anything these people have. We’re walking out of here, right now, and we’re going back to Detroit, and they can _forget_ it.”

“I dunno, Chuck,” Mike says warily. “These guys don’t seem like the type to take no for an answer.”

“He is correct.” The lead figure turns to Chuck. “It seems to us,” it says, “that we have you at a disadvantage. You are in our territory. If you do not accept our offer, what makes you think you will be able to leave this city?”

Chuck’s slingshot is out before he even thinks about it. Terra Mike vaults onto the table, vines whipping out to form his crossbow. Chuck centers his crosshairs on the lead figure’s head.

“If you lay a finger on him,” he says, “at least one of you won’t be leaving this _room.”_

There’s a frozen silence.

“We are not familiar with these weapons. But if you think you will survive damaging us,” the lead figure finally says, “you are sorely mistaken.” Chuck doesn’t move. Terra Mike growls low in his throat.

“Is it worth it to you?” Chuck asks.

For a long moment, no one moves.

Mike leans forward in his chair slowly.

“Guys,” he says carefully, “stand down. I’ll do it.”

“No. No way. I have a counter-offer,” Chuck says, slingshot unwavering on the figure’s head.

“What do you propose?” the figure says.

“You want advanced bioware? In addition to this plasma slingshot, my left arm has a fully integrated multi-screen interface. It’s more complex than anything you’ll find on Mike.”

“We’re listening.”

Chuck checks back over his shoulder to make sure Terra Mike has him covered. His crossbow is up and ready. Chuck slowly lowers his slingshot, snaps it away, pulls up a screen and expands it, throwing it across the room to display schematics of his arm. The figures examine it wordlessly. The lead figure turns to Chuck.

“You are correct. This is the type of advanced bioware we need. What is your suggestion?” it asks.

“Don’t touch Mike,” Chuck says, voice only shaking a little. “And give us the file on Kane. If you do that, I’ll give you the full specs, and we all walk out of here in one piece.”

“We see the specs. They are not sufficient for research purposes.”

“Okay,” Chuck says. He swallows, steadies himself. “Okay. I’ll leave the arm with you. You can reverse-engineer it.”

“Leave the… what?” Burner Mike says. Chuck ignores him.

The pixelated figures confer briefly. Then, “That is acceptable,” the one in the front says.

“No,” Mike says, “no deal. Chuck, I’m not letting you do this.”

“Well, I’m not letting you go under the knife,” Chuck says, pulling up another, smaller screen and punching in a series of commands. “I know what _that’s_ like. I’m not letting them do it to you.” He finishes punching in the commands, sits down in his chair. “There,” he says. “Should just take a second.” Mike furrows his brow.

 _“What_ should?”

Chuck gives Mike a resigned, apologetic half-smile. “I just activated the amputation protocol,” he says. “The arm should detach itself in about two minutes.”

“The WHAT protocol?” Mike stands up, knocking his chair over.

Chuck deliberately misunderstands this. “The arm is designed to detach from the body if it gets too damaged to function or self-repair. It’s easy enough to program a work-around and get it to let go. Don’t worry, it shouldn’t… ah.” Chuck feels a twanging sensation in his shoulder and left pectoral, a series of sharp little muscular ripples and pinches. Terra Mike flicks a glance at Chuck, but keeps his bow steady.

“You can put down your weapon,” the lead figure says. “We have an agreement. We will honor it.”

“I’ll keep it out for now,” Terra Mike says, “thanks anyway.” The figure shrugs almost imperceptibly, unconcerned. Another series of little shocks runs through Chuck’s arm. He winces.

“Chuck?” Burner Mike says, fists clenched.

“Okay,” Chuck says, taking a deep breath, “okay. It shouldn’t, ah, hurt too bad, the protocol switches off the nerves first. There might be a little bleed-through, but it’s not like getting your leg bitten off by a gator - AH!” There’s a sharp twinge in his shoulder-joint. Something shifts around in there, letting go. It doesn’t hurt very much, but it feels deeply unsettling. Chuck suddenly realizes he can’t feel the fingers of his left hand. He can’t feel anything at all in that arm anymore. He tries to move it. It doesn’t respond.

“Wow, okay!” he says, and reaches over with his right hand to lift his numb left arm and set it on the table. “Okay, it’s happening.”

Burner Mike rushes around the table, kneels down beside him. “Oh sheet, Chuck, no no no, you’re bleeding.”

“Am I?” Chuck says weakly. He glances at his left shoulder. Yep, there’s spots of blood soaking through his shirt in a perfect ring around the shoulder-joint. Not very much blood; just enough that it makes Chuck dizzy to look at it. “Huh,” he says. “Surface capillaries must not get shut off right away like the main arteries…” Then a sharp jolt of pain in his shoulder makes him flinch. There’s a popping noise and a hiss like steam escaping a vent. Without warning, Chuck’s left arm falls out of his sleeve, landing on the table with a thunk, bent at a right angle at the elbow. Terra Mike yelps. Burner Mike sucks in a shocked breath.

“Huh,” Chuck says after a moment, staring at his own arm lying on the table. “That wasn’t so bad.”

Then he faints.


	17. Louder than words

Chuck is seven years old, and someone is sitting on his head.

“Freak!” someone else yells. Hands scrabble at his left arm, the one that’s only half-there. He tries to struggle, but there’s so many of them, he’s pinned.

“Look at it, it’s soooo weird,” says a jeering voice, holding up his truncated elbow.

Suddenly, the weight falls from his head. “Hey! Ow!” someone yells. Chuck pulls himself away from the hands, scrambles back. The new kid has waded into the group, fists flailing wildly.

“Quit it!” he’s yelling. “Leave him alone!” He punches another kid right in the face.

They all get in huge trouble for fighting. No dessert for a week for any of them.

“It’s not fair,” Chuck says to the new kid. “You were helping me. When we get dessert back I’ll give you mine. You can have two.”

“That’s okay,” says the new kid. “I hadda help, you’ve only got one arm, that’s not fair in a fight.”

“I can fight,” Chuck says, chagrinned. “I _can.”_

“Sure, but not, like, ten guys,” the new kid says. “But don’t worry. I’ve got your back from now on. I’m Mike!”

Chuck turns to him and he… he looks weird. There’s two of him. One has a strange face, with too many sharp teeth. The other is sprouting wires and tubes from his skin, his hair waving like he’s floating in water. Both Mikes reach out a hand to him.

“What’s your name?” they say.

“I’m Chuck,” Chuck says. They’re all older now, he has two hands. He reaches out to both of them. Before he can grab their hands, he wakes up.

***

Chuck blinks up at at a white ceiling. Fragments of dreams scatter and disappear. He’s lying in a hospital bed, the familiar hum of machinery in his ears. He tenses reflexively. He’s not in traction or wired up to anything, though. He just has an IV in. His racing heart slows. It’s okay. This isn’t a bad one.

He blinks again, comes further awake. The light is dimmed. He raises his head, looks around. He’s in a unfamiliar room with white walls and a tile floor. No windows. Sink and cabinet on one wall. Door in the opposite wall.

Burner Mike sitting in a chair by his bed, slumped over.

“Mike,” Chuck says hoarsely. Mike jumps, then stares at him wide-eyed.

“Buddy!” he exclaims. “You’re awake! How do you feel?” He reaches over, puts a hand on Chuck’s forehead like he’s taking his temperature. Chuck closes his eyes. Mike’s hand is warm, finger pads callused.

“I’m so sorry,” Chuck mumbles. He feels groggy, head fuzzy.

“What?” Mike says.

“I’m sorry I called you a fake,” Chuck says miserably. “I shouldn’t have said that. I was being mean and, and _stupid._ I’m so sorry.”

“I know,” Mike says, “I know, dude. Stop.”

“No,” Chuck rasps, “you were right. I _did_ lie to you. Because I was _scared._ I was scared of what you’d think of me. I don’t want you to think… that I’m _weak.”_ He can feel tears starting to leak from his eyes.

Mike starts petting his forehead, his hair.

“You’re the strongest guy I know,” he says softly.

“No. I should have… I should have trusted you, about the panic attack stuff. About driving. About all of it. I’m sorry.”

“Stop,” Mike says, voice hoarse. “That’s not important.”

“It _is,”_ Chuck insists. “It is, Mikey.”

“Chuck, it’s okay. Your arm. Does… does it hurt?”

Chuck tries to move his left arm, then remembers it’s gone. He takes a long breath in through his nose. Then he braces himself and looks at his shoulder, pulling up the short sleeve of the loose shirt someone put on him.

It looks weird, hollowed out and empty where his joint used to be. But there’s no wound; just smooth, oddly featureless, new-looking skin.

“No,” he says, “it doesn’t hurt.”

“Good,” Mike says, brow furrowed. “You want some water or anything?”

“Yeah. Yeah, that’d be great. How long was I out?”

“Fourteen hours.”

“WHAT!” Chuck sits up, gets a head rush.

“Dude, relax,” Mike says, hovering a hand over him, concerned. “We’re at the nanotechnology research institute. They fixed you up. Terra Mike got us in. He carried you halfway across the city. Ayana came too. She said to tell you… well, I’ll let her tell you herself. But she’s pretty pissed. After you went down, she talked to the Witnesses. They kept their word. They gave her the file on Kane. And she’s coming with us back to Detroit. She wants to help. Everything’s cool.” Chuck settles back down, breathes out.

Mike gets up, crosses to the sink and cupboard on the wall, pulls a glass out of the cupboard, and fills it with water. He brings the glass to Chuck. Chuck downs the whole glass in a few long swallows. Mike sits back in his chair and watches him, forehead wrinkled.

“You were right, too,” Mike says abruptly, dropping his eyes. Chuck looks up, startled.

“I left you,” Mike continues, staring at the floor. “I can blame the clone thing, but I still _did_ it. You can be mad at me for that. And I… I know I don’t get some things. I know I can be thoughtless. And a jerk. Your problems aren’t stupid, _I_ shouldn’t have said _that_. I should have tried harder. To understand. Just because _I_ have a hard time feeling that stuff doesn’t mean it doesn’t _matter._ You're part of my team. I'm supposed to take care of you. I let you down. I _failed_ you."

“Mike,” Chuck says softly, “it’s okay. It's not your fault.”

“I can’t believe you did that,” Mike says, still staring at the floor. “Your arm. That was your programming arm.”

Chuck shrugs what’s left of his shoulders. “I’m used to it,” he says, trying to keep his voice light. “I _grew up_ with one hand, remember? And they took the whole thing off and put new ones on a bunch of times in R  & D, it's not that big a deal. I’ve got plenty of screens in my right arm, too, I’ll be fine.”

“Chuck,” Mike says sharply, looking up, “you’re doing it again.”

Chuck starts. He takes a long moment, flexes his remaining hand.

“Okay, you’re right,” he says, “I’m _not_ fine. This sucks.” He feels himself starting to tear up again. “Now I don’t even have a cool slingshot. How am I gonna program on the fly for you guys with _one hand,_ I'm gonna be _slow!_ But I had to, Mikey, I _had_ to. They were gonna cut you up.”

Mike leans forward, grabs the back of Chuck’s neck, and presses their foreheads together. Chuck is struck breathless at the intimacy of the gesture.

“Chuck,” Mike says, voice rough, “thank you.”

Chuck freezes. Oh god. Mike’s mouth is _right there._ If only they hadn’t hurt each other so badly, if only Chuck wasn’t such an idiot, he could just...

There’s a knock at the door.

Mike lets him go, pulls away. He rubs at his eyes briefly. Chuck doesn’t even bother, he just sits there leaking tears.

“Yeah?” Mike calls.

The door opens. Terra Mike pokes his head into the room. “Hey!” he says, smiling softly at Chuck through sharp teeth. “I thought I heard your voice. How you doin’?”

 _“Terrible!”_ Chuck says, too loud. “I have one arm, and I got in a fight with my best friend and acted like an _idiot_ , and I’m scared all the time because a relentless megalomaniac is trying to kill us, and Julie is stuck in Deluxe because, _oh,_ the megalomaniac is _her dad_ , and a raccoon tried to eat you, and some weird robot people wanted to disassemble Mike, and we almost died. _Again._ Also, my head hurts. Basically, everything sucks.” He looks at Burner Mike. “How’s that for telling the truth?” he asks. Burner Mike grins at him.

 _“Great,”_ he says. “Lay it on me, buddy, I can take it.”

Terra Mike is looking at them in dawning elation.

“You guys are talking again!” he says, delighted.

Burner Mike and Chuck smile sheepishly at each other.

“I’m gonna be more honest,” Chuck says softly.

“And I’m gonna be more... not a jerk,” Burner Mike says. Chuck giggles.

“Can you both be less dumb, too?” Terra Mike says severely. Burner Mike snorts out a laugh.

“I doubt it,” he says.

“Yeah, I _seriously_ doubt it,” Chuck agrees wryly.

“Hey,” Burner Mike says, “if _I’m_ dumb, then by definition, doesn’t that mean _you’re…_ ”

“Save it,” Terra Mike interrupts, smiling. He reaches out and squeezes both their shoulders. “I’m glad you’re back to being friends again. Right?”

“Yeah,” Burner Mike says.

“Friends are good. Friends are important,” Terra Mike says, oddly intent.

“You’re also.... our friend?” Chuck says uncertainly. The last thing he wants is for Terra Mike to feel left out. His stomach does a weird little flip when Terra Mike looks at him and seems to… hesitate. Just for a fraction of a second. But then he grins and squeezes their shoulders again.

“You bet,” he says. “Buddies. Pals. Chums, even.”

“Comrades,” Burner Mike says.

“Amigos, if you will,” Terra Mike says.

“Okay, _stop,”_ Chuck says, rolling his eyes. “Can I take this IV out? I don’t like it.”

“I guess?” Burner Mike says. Both Mikes look at him, identically concerned. Chuck holds out his arm.

“I can’t do it myself,” he says. “Can one of you…”

Burner Mike leans forward, undoes the tape, and carefully pulls the IV tube out. Chuck's arm starts bleeding a little. Burner Mike grabs a tissue from the bedside table, applies pressure until it stops. Terra Mike digs a bandaid out of the cabinet over the sink, sticks it gently over the spot of blood left behind. Chuck sits up. He feels less dizzy this time. He swings his legs over the edge of the bed.

“Guys,” he says, looking at both of them, “get me out of this room, please.”

***

Terra Mike leads them down a hallway to a small conference room. Chuck doesn’t miss the way Burner Mike hovers at his side, seemingly ready in case he faints again or something. Ayana is sitting in the conference room. She’s surrounded by a mass of small screens, working intently. Apparently the Clevelanders have similar screen tech to the Deluxians. She looks up when they come in.

“Hey,” she says to Chuck, a wrinkle between her eyebrows. “Glad to see you up and about. That was an interesting application of bioware technology. It seems smart that there would be an amputation protocol, but I didn’t expect to actually see it in action. Uh.” She stops, visibly resets herself. She tries again. “You okay?” she asks.

Chuck raises his eyebrows at her. “Not… really?” he says, gesturing at his missing arm.

“I’m sorry,” Ayana says gravely. “I didn’t see that coming. I sometimes forget how… far-removed the Witnesses are from ordinary people. Being neurally networked changes you. It’s a privilege, but it’s also a sacrifice. Anyway, this is my fault. I saw an opportunity and I jumped at it, and I got you all into a bad situation. I’m going to make it up to you. I’ve assigned myself to be your technician-agent until we can get Julie installed as CEO. My skills are at your disposal.”

Chuck absorbs this for a moment.

“Thank you,” he finally says. “We’re going to need all the help we can get.”

Burner Mike nods. “How are things going with the files?” he asks her.

Ayana smiles. "I have highlight reels,” she says. She glances at Chuck. “I edited them together while you were out cold. Check it out. This one features Kane hijacking the Safe-T Suits and making that insane people ball." She pushes a video screen over to float in front of them. The sound is off but Kane's apoplectic face is clearly visible. She flicks over another. "This one is him almost blowing up all the buildings in Deluxe to keep you guys trapped upstairs." She flicks another. "Here's him ordering R & D to dump his failed nanotech experiment on the Terra collective. That's a classic from the vault." Another. "Here's a compilation of all the times we got him ordering R & D people beaten up or terminated." Chuck shudders. It's like two hours long.

“Let’s just say there’s a _lot_ of blackmail material in here,” Ayana says.

"Fucking… _karma,"_ says Terra Mike, delighted.

“You really think we can use this?” Chuck asks.

“Only one way to find out,” Ayana says cheerfully. “At the very least, we’ll be able to make some trouble.” She leans back in her chair, laces her fingers together behind her head. “And from what I understand, you guys are really good at that.”

Burner Mike grins at her. “We sure are,” he says.

“Making trouble is my calling,” Terra Mike says.

“I hate you both,” Chuck says, resigned.

Burner Mike puts one arm around Chuck’s shoulders, a little carefully, then throws the other arm over Terra Mike’s shoulders.

“Guys,” Burner Mike says to them, “let’s go home.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to BirchBow (chaoticTenebrism) for fact-checking me on how IVs work.


	18. Skeletons in the closet

They make good time on the way back, the first day. Ayana rides behind Terra Mike on Leopold, her satchel and bivy sack packed away in Mutt’s trunk. She brought equipment, but it’s all small; miniature flying camera bugs, mostly, and some other tech that Chuck is itching to get a look at. He’s also curious about the neural implants the Clevelanders have developed, but he’s not sure how polite it is to ask someone about their brain. So he holds off on grilling Ayana, at least until they get to know each other better.

Chuck’s had practice navigating the world with one arm, but he has to re-learn how to deal with some of the annoyances he runs into, like tying his shoes (which he figured out how to do when he was younger) and cutting a bagel in half for lunch (which he ends up asking Mike to help with) and buttoning his pants (which he absolutely does not). Typing is a whole new ballgame; he has to dig out the old keypad system he designed for himself when he was a kid, and he’s much slower. It’s frustrating. He works on redesigning his keyboards while Mike drives through the afternoon, window rolled down. Terra Mike is teaching Ayana an extremely ribald song that has her in stitches, and Burner Mike keeps yelling “What?” out the window like he can’t hear.

Chuck and Burner Mike are more careful with each other than usual. Their new understanding hangs between them like a soap bubble, delicate. They smile at each other a lot. Chuck can’t help getting dopey about it, and he lets himself be freer with Mike than he’s been in a while. Mike responds in kind; he’s even more handsy than usual, patting Chuck on the shoulder, putting an arm around him occasionally, wrestling with him a little at lunch when they tussle over the bagel. It’s nice.

Chuck wants to make sure Terra Mike doesn’t feel left out, but Terra Mike kind of hangs back over the course of the day, checking in occasionally but seeming happy to talk with Ayana. Chuck can’t tell if he’s deliberately giving them space or just being his usual easy-going self. Chuck decides to make some time to hang out with Terra Mike one-on-one soon. He’s not intending to lose either Mike again. They’ve been separated enough.

Terra Mike stops hanging back when they make camp for the night, though. Both Mikes _fuss_ over him, embarrassingly. They keep bringing him stuff, or asking if he wants seconds on dinner, or refilling his water, or asking if he needs anything. “Do you have any grapes?” Chuck finally asks, fond and exasperated and a little bit daring. “One of you could feed them to me while the other one fans me with a palm frond. Stop fussing, I’m _fine._ I mean it.” Terra Mike starts laughing.

 _“That’s_ an image,” Ayana says wryly, putting another piece of wood on the fire.

“I volunteer for grape duty,” Terra Mike says, raising his hand. Burner Mike shoves him.

“Sorry!” he says to Chuck. “I’m just… I’m _trying!”_

“Bro, just treat me like normal,” Chuck says. “I didn’t need you fussing over me when we were kids, I don’t need you fussing over me _now.”_

“I think that’s just kind of how we are, though?” Terra Mike says, raising an eyebrow at Burner Mike. “Phyla calls me team mom.”

Chuck points at Burner Mike. “You totally _are_ team mom!” he laughs. “Oh my god!”

“Shut up!” Burner Mike says. “I’m not even good at it! I screw it up all the time!”

“Dude, relax!” Chuck says, still laughing. “You’re fine!”

“We’re the mom friend,” Terra Mike says to Burner Mike. “Just go with it, bro.”

“Oh my god.” Burner Mike looks flustered. Chuck laughs at him delightedly.

“Hey, you remember back in the wards, though?” Terra Mike says to Chuck. “You totally mother-henned the littler kids. You used to always save those fruit-flavored throat cubes so you’d have some to share if one of them was feeling sad. And you stashed a hoard of them in the air vent and they went bad and stunk the whole place up. We got in _so_ much trouble.”

“Oh _man,”_ Burner Mike says. “I remember that.” Terra Mike grins at him.

“‘Course you do!” he says cheerfully. “Remember that one time…”

To Chuck’s utter chagrin, both Mikes start rehashing embarrassing moments from their childhood. The kitten incident comes up. Chuck laughs and sputters a lot. Ayana tells them some stories of her own childhood in Cleveland; exploring abandoned buildings, running amok in the community garden with her sister and brother, trying and failing to spy on the neighbors while emulating Vega technician-agents. At one point she gets out a flask of home-brewed mead and passes it around. It’s sweet and stinging, and it makes Burner Mike cough and Terra Mike grin ferociously. By the time they all eventually stagger to bed—Terra Mike to his nest of blankets next to Leopold, Ayana to her bivy sack by the fire, Burner Mike and Chuck to Mutt—the moon is out and the stars are bright points of light spilled across the sky. Chuck stares at the stars contentedly out the window as he drifts off to sleep. Mike snores. It’s great.

***

The next afternoon, Terra Mike pulls Leopold alongside Mutt and asks, “Hey, you guys want to take a break?”

“What for?” Burner Mike asks.

“My map says there’s a really nice swimming hole around here. We should go check it out. I think we all deserve a little time to relax, you know?”

No one has any objections. They park Mutt and leave Leopold next to the car, and Terra Mike leads them off the road down to a small river. They bushwhack upstream for a ways, until they emerge into a clearing, and Terra Mike says, “Ah! This must be it.”

It’s… really beautiful. There's a deep pool in the river formed by a waterfall, surrounded by trees, a little rock beach next to the shore.

“Oh, this _is_ nice,” Ayana says.

“Woooo! Time for swimming!” Terra Mike cheers excitedly. “You guys ready?”

“I don’t have a swimsuit, do you guys care if I’m just in my underwear?” Burner Mike says.

“Why would you wear _those?_ ” Terra Mike says, and suddenly there’s a flurry of shed clothes in Chuck’s peripheral vision. Terra Mike bounces forward into the water and he’s _naked._ That is his _entire_ ass. He gets in up to his knees and turns around, and that is his ENTIRE… EVERYTHING. Chuck almost screams. Terra Mike puts his hands on his hips.

“Why are you guys still dressed?” he says, seeming sincerely puzzled. “C'mon, I thought we were swimming.”

Burner Mike makes an upset noise that eventually forms into words.

“Not everyone wants to be naked all the time, you weirdo!” he manages. Terra Mike shrugs.

“Suit yourselves,” he says and flops backwards into the water, backstroking away.

Ayana is chuckling beside them.

“Where’d you _find_ this guy?” she asks. “I _like_ him.” She strips off her vest and shirt, starts taking her pants off. She’s not wearing a bra. Chuck almost screams again. He widens his eyes at Burner Mike because that’s the only safe place to look right now. Mike is giving him a desperate look that clearly means _Save me._ Chuck knows he’s giving Mike the same look right back. Ayana wades into the water in nothing but black boyshorts and swims after Mike.

“Race you to the waterfall!” she calls to him.

 _Oh my god,_ Mike mouths at Chuck, and Chuck starts laughing. He can’t help it. This is ridiculous, they have ridiculous, embarrassing friends. Chuck decides to just go with it, what the hell. He’s a little self-conscious about the scars on his shoulder and chest and the whole _arm_ situation, but he’s got boxers on and he can swim in his t-shirt, that’s fine. He looks right at Burner Mike, raises his eyebrows, unties his shoes, kicks them off, and takes off his pants.

Burner Mike starts laughing, too, completely red in the face.

“You _traitor,”_ he says, grinning. “I see how it is. Fine.” He toes off his boots, strips off his clothes. He’s wearing a really ludicrous pair of bright orange briefs. Chuck starts laughing again, even harder. Mike takes a few steps back and then runs forward and leaps into the water with a yell. Chuck wades in after him, giggling.

Ayana and the Mikes all jump off the top of the waterfall, cannon-balling to see who can splash Chuck the most. He splashes them back, griping good-naturedly. The water is cool but not freezing, and it feels good to get clean after so many days on the road. Terra Mike finds a big rock and falls asleep in the sun on his stomach like a lizard, and Burner Mike gets a t-shirt and drapes it over his butt, shaking his head ruefully. They all doze on the shore for awhile, until the sun goes behind a cloud and Chuck starts getting cold in his wet t-shirt, and then they make their way back. They wring out their wet clothes and hang them in Mutt’s rear window to dry, getting fresh ones out of the trunk. When they get back on the road, Terra Mike starts singing again, full-throated, and Burner Mike rolls down the window and sticks his arm out and drums on Mutt’s side, and Chuck finds himself wishing the road was a little longer.

***

They make camp early, while the sun is still up. Despite their stop at the waterfall, they’ve been making good time, and only have maybe half a day’s journey to Detroit in the morning. Terra Mike wanders off while Chuck and Burner Mike unpack the food and Ayana sets up her bivy. Chuck runs into him when he goes to look for some firewood. He’s just a little ways outside camp, in a small clearing. He's just… sitting there, legs crossed. He doesn't even fidget. Weird. He looks up when Chuck comes into the clearing, smiles.

“Hey, Chuck,” he says.

“What’s up?” Chuck asks.

“Just meditating a little.”

Huh. That’s… interesting. “I didn’t mean to bother you,” Chuck says hastily. “I was just looking for some firewood.”

Terra Mike springs up. “You’re not bothering me! I’ll get some too.” They gather a bunch of downed tree limbs and bring the stack of wood back to camp. Terra Mike builds the fire and cooks, as usual; he seems to really enjoy doing that, and waves Chuck away when he offers to help. Ayana passes the mead around again, and Chuck gets a little giggly, and the Mikes sit on either side of him, and he starts feeling strange; a warm, soft feeling that relaxes his back and makes him smile helplessly. It takes him a little while to identify it as _happiness._

When Burner Mike and Chuck are settled into Mutt for the night, Mike asks, “How are you doing?”

Chuck rolls over to look at him.

“Are you fussing again?” he says.

“No, dude, I’m just checking.”

Chuck smiles at him. “I’m good. Kind of tipsy. That mead Ayana brought is _strong.”_

Mike shakes his head, smiling ruefully.

“Ayana’s nuts. I couldn’t believe them today at the waterfall. Freakin’ nudists all over the place. That was so embarrassing. _He’s_ so embarrassing.”

Chuck laughs. “Tell me about it, I can’t believe you both spilled the beans last night about, like, every dumb thing we did when we were kids. Hey, I ran into him when I was getting firewood, you know he meditates?"

"Yeah. He tried to teach me on the way here. That second night." Mike grimaces. "It's literally the worst. You just sit there and try not to think about anything? It's bonkers."

Chuck laughs again.

“Maybe you should try it again,” he says. “Hell, maybe _I_ should try it. It couldn’t hurt.”

“That’s all you, bro,” Mike says ruefully. “I was about to vibrate off the planet.” Mike reaches out, ruffles Chuck’s hair. “G’night, dude,” he says. “Sleep well.”

“You too,” Chuck says, and stares out at the stars for awhile.

Mike eventually starts snoring again, and Chuck rolls over and looks at him. He’s got one arm out of his sleeping bag, kind of sprawled out, and his mouth is open, and Chuck takes a second to be grateful that Mike is his friend. Then he takes another second to be slightly peeved about how freaking _adorable_ the guy is.

If anything, Chuck’s crush has gotten worse over the last few days since they made up. It was a bad fight, yeah. But it cleared the air. They both have some work to do. But at least now all their shit is on the table. Chuck can let go of some of his lingering resentments. It’s a little disconcerting; the only things keeping him from falling completely head over heels are now being addressed, and if Chuck isn’t careful, he’s going to do something really stupid.  

There’s the added convolution of Terra Mike. His long-lost best friend is kind, brave, forthright. The two of them are still sort of reestablishing their relationship. There’s some gaps to fill. But Chuck can’t deny that despite his best efforts, he has the same dumb crush on Terra Mike that he has on Burner Mike. He’s utterly, desperately infatuated with _both_ of them.

Chuck rolls back over, a little upset at himself. The warm, happy feeling slowly slips away, replaced by his usual anxiety.

The whole situation is utterly, desperately _stupid._

Because here’s the thing. Burner Mike may be prone to the occasional accidental innuendo, sure. And sure, he’s a little handsy. But in all the time they’ve spent together, Chuck’s never gotten the sense that he’s interested in _more_ than that with _anyone,_ much less with Chuck. The guy was practically cheering him on when Chuck was trying and failing to flirt with Claire. That’s not how you act if you’re into someone. And if _Burner_ Mike isn’t interested, Chuck has no reason to think _Terra_ Mike would be. They have the same base personality, after all, that probably means they have the same taste. So. He’s just going to have to be into them from a safe distance, and try not to be a creep. The last thing he wants to do is disturb the delicate equilibrium the three of them have managed to build. He’s lucky the Mikes want to hang around with him at all, anyway. He’s a skinny nerd with a lot of brain problems and one arm. Not exactly a catch.

He resolves to let things be. It’s complicated enough without dumb feelings getting in the way. He’s good at denial; he can do it. It’s going to be a little harder now that he has _two_ Mikes to be in denial about. But. What choice does he have? It’s not like either Mike feels the same way.

Chuck gradually falls asleep, and definitely doesn’t have any dreams. About _anything._

***

They pass through the soybean fields and reach the entrance to the dome around noon the next day. As soon as they’re back within range of the intranet, Mike gets on the comms and calls Dutch and Texas. Dutch calmly recounts a minor bot skirmish while Texas provides sound effects in the background. Mike also calls Julie. She can only talk briefly but her face lights up when she sees them. She promises to call them back later and get all the details.

It’s a huge relief to return to the familiarity of the hideout. It’s great to see Dutch and Jacob once they mostly get over the shock of Chuck’s new arm situation; it’s even kind of nice to see Texas, who insists on showing them his new muay thai kick, repeatedly. It looks just like the old one, but Chuck refrains from mentioning that. Terra Mike unloads Leopold to give him a break, and they introduce Ayana to everyone. Dutch immediately gets into an in-depth conversation with her about her scalp lights, which he seems very taken with. They all start unpacking Mutt, and Jacob sets Ayana up a cot in one of the storage rooms, which is going to have to function as a makeshift guest room for the time being. Ayana seems quite happy with the prospect of sleeping among a bunch of Chuck’s spare electronics, which kind of endears her to him. When everything is done, Chuck ends up in the living room with the two Mikes. He slumps down on the couch.

“It’s nice to be back!” he says to them cheerfully.

Terra Mike pulls off his shirt, stretches.

“Ah!” he says happily. “It _is_ nice to be back!” Then he abruptly starts taking his _pants_ off. Chuck squeaks.

“Whoa, dude,” Burner Mike says, but it’s too late. Mike’s already stripped down to nothing but his cut-offs. Does he wear those _instead of_ underwear? Has he been _going commando_ this whole time? Oh, jesus. Terra Mike flops onto the couch next to Chuck, all loose-limbed muscle and dark scarred skin. Chuck was absolutely not mentally prepared for this. Mike throws an arm casually over the back of the couch, kind of around Chuck’s shoulders. Chuck swallows. Burner Mike does this, but not _without more clothes on._ Terra Mike is a little funky from days on the road, but there’s pleasant undertones of earth and mulch and oh god, Chuck is _smelling_ him. Chuck can’t handle this right now. Or ever. “I’m gonna go get some food!” he says hastily, standing up. Terra Mike looks up at him, seeming faintly disappointed. Chuck hurries out of the room.

“Dude,” he hears Burner Mike say behind him, “can you _not?”_

“Oh shit, right, I forgot the shirt thing bugs you,” Terra Mike says. “You’re so weird.”

Chuck collects himself a little in the kitchen. _Don’t_ be a creep, _don’t_ be a creep. God, why don’t the Terras have any _boundaries?_ This is so unfair. He’s really _trying._ He digs around in the fridge an finds some of Jacob’s bizarre muffins. They’re not okra-mayonnaise; Chuck isn’t sure whether to be relieved or disappointed. He wolfs one down. Turmeric, maybe? Ginger? Whatever. He eats another one.

Terra Mike comes in. He’s still in his cutoffs, but he has his shirt back on.

“Hey,” he says, “Julie’s on the line, she’s got some time. Want to come fill her in? Mike’s messaging everyone to meet up in the living room.” Okay, this is more manageable.

“Yeah!” Chuck says. “I hope she’s doing okay, I wanna talk to her.” He follows Terra Mike back to the living room, where Burner Mike has a large screen up. Julie looks good; she’s talking animatedly to Mike when they come in.

“It’s great to see you,” she’s saying. “I haven’t been able to spend much time in Motorcity since you left.”

Texas and Dutch come in. “Hey, Theresa!” Texas says, waving at her to get her attention. “Check out this new kick!” He does the kick. Julie squints.

“Isn’t that the same one you were doing before?” she asks.

“Nuh-uh!” Texas protests. “It’s totally different. But Texas doesn’t blame you for not knowing much about the subtle art of muay thai.”

“Subtle. Right,” Julie says.

Ayana strides in.

“Julie Kapulsky!” she exclaims. “Ayana Wilkes, technician-agent two-forty-seven of Vega, at your service.” She does a weird little salute.

“Uh. Great!” Julie says, furrowing her brow. Then she suddenly looks at Chuck. She narrows her eyes.

“Chuck,” she says slowly, “what… what the hell happened to your _arm?_ ”

“Uh,” Chuck says.

“Oh my _god!”_ Julie says, shocked. “Your arm is _gone!”_

“Well,” Chuck says.

“I know, right?” says Texas. “Skinny’s tougher than I thought, he’s all acting like it’s no big deal. Don’t worry, he’s working on growing it back.”

“He can’t… Chuck, what the hell _happened?_ Are you _okay?”_

“Well, it’s not, like, _ideal,”_ Chuck says. “But I’m mostly okay. Let’s, um. Let’s start at the beginning.”

They take Julie through all the events of the trip. Chuck omits his fight and reconciliation with Burner Mike; that’s personal. Texas inserts some sound effects but even he seems appropriately impressed by Terra Mike’s fight with the raccoon and their showdown with the Witnesses. Ayana fills the rest of the Burners in on the contents of Vega’s surveillance file and the highlight reels she’s created of Kane’s worst moments. Julie looks extremely intrigued, and watches some of the footage with mixture of horror and vindictive glee.

“If we could broadcast this stuff to the citizens of Deluxe,” Julie finally says after watching the people-ball video for the third time, “we could discredit Kane completely.”

“It would certainly put a dent in his image as a benevolent dictator,” Ayana agrees. “Is there a way to broadcast it so that everyone in Deluxe sees it? We want maximum impact.”

Chuck swallows hard.

“We’d have to upload the data into the system and transmit it directly from central control,” he says. “Otherwise it would be too easy to interrupt and jam. But if you can get me in there, I can do it.”

“Tooley can get you into KaneCo tower, but getting into central control is going to be a little more difficult. It’s automated in there, very few people have access,” Julie says thoughtfully.

“What kind of security does it have?” Ayana asks.

“We _could_ hack it,” Chuck says, “but only from onsite. It would be super dicey. I don’t know if we could do it without raising an alarm. They’d be all over us.”

“Red has the clearance now,” Julie says. “He can get us the access code.” She looks at them all seriously. “We can do this. You go in, start the transmission, get out, and jam the door behind you. They won’t even know you were there until the transmission starts broadcasting. And once the Deluxians see what Kane’s _really_ been up to, I bet we can get them to rethink supporting him as CEO. I’ll have some things ready to go in order to capitalize on the opportunity. We might be able to put enough pressure on him to get him to step down.”

“That could work,” Burner Mike says thoughtfully. “Kane doesn’t really care what people think of him, so _blackmailing_ him wouldn’t be effective, but if we can just get the information out there we might get a critical mass of Deluxians pissed off enough to actually do something.”

Chuck frowns. “I dunno,” he says. “It’s risky. Kane’s got the Elites on his side, what could a bunch of Deluxians even do?”

“The Elites might not be too happy about what’s in that video either,” Mike says. “He was experimenting on them with booster tech, that’s pretty shady. If we can get even some of them on our side, I’d count that as a win. Any kind of crack in his facade is better than what we’re dealing with now.”

The Burners all look at each other.

“This is what I was made for,” Terra Mike says happily. “Kicking ass and revolution.”

“It’s the _opposite_ of what I was made for,” Burner Mike says, grinning. “So let’s do it.”

“Don’t think I’m going to let you boys have all the fun,” Ayana says. “I may not know KaneCo’s systems, but I might still come in useful.”

“That would be great,” Chuck says. “I could use another pair of hands.”

Ayana stares at him. Chuck realizes what he just said.

“Oh, whoops,” Chuck says weakly. “Hand joke.” Then he narrows his eyes. “But for real. I could.”

Ayana starts laughing. “You got it,” she says, reaching out and squeezing his shoulder.

“Texas and I will be your exit strategy,” Dutch volunteers. “We’ll handle Tooley and make sure you have a clear path out. Roth can guard the cars.”

Julie takes a deep breath. “Okay,” she says. “We’re doing this. I need a few days. I have some things to set up here, and I need to talk to Red. You guys get ready. I’ll come down once I have everything in place and we’ll go over all the details.” She smiles at them fondly. “You have no idea how good it is to have you guys back. I can’t wait to come down and see you. Sorry it won’t be for a bit. I have a lot of balls in the air right now.”

“Hailey,” Texas say, “don’t worry. Texas ain’t going nowhere, I’ll be right here waitin’ for ya.” He flexes.

“Wow,” Julie says drily. “Incentive. Okay, I gotta get going. You guys take care of yourselves. I’ll see you in a couple of days.” She signs off.

Texas looks at Dutch. “It’s like she doesn’t even notice my sweet moves,” he says. “I don’t get it.”

“Texas, you doofus,” Dutch says, exasperated, “we _talked_ about this.”

“Yeah,” Texas says, “you said a lot of dumb junk about being sensitive or something, but I stopped listening. Was that important?”

Dutch pinches the bridge of his nose. “I don’t know why I even bother,” he mutters to himself. Chuck squints at them. What’s going on _there?_

“Is there anything in the kitchen?” Burner Mike asks Chuck. “I’m kinda hungry.”

“Yeah, there’s the usual weird muffins, if you want some. I got them out.”

Chuck and the two Mikes leave Dutch and Texas in a huddle in the living room and wander into the kitchen. Chuck and Terra Mike sit at the counter while Burner Mike stands on the other side and eats a muffin meditatively.

"You guys feel okay about this plan?" he asks.

“I dunno. I just hope it has some kind of effect,” Chuck says. “I’d hate for all of this to be for nothing.”

“Yeah,” Mike says seriously. “Me too. But it’s pretty low risk, if we can get in and out without being noticed. And the payoff could be huge.”

“That’s a big if, though,” Chuck says thoughtfully. Mike grins at him.

“We’ve done it before,” he says. “Remember when we wired Mutt into Claire’s pod and flew it around? We totally didn’t get caught then.”

Chuck rolls his eyes. “I try _not_ to remember that,” he says.

“You guys are crazy,” Terra Mike says.

“You’re one to talk,” Chuck says snidely. Terra Mike pokes Chuck in the ribs. Chuck squeaks involuntarily.

“Haha, are you still _ticklish?”_ Terra Mike laughs. He looks at Burner Mike. “Remember that? He used to die laughing, it was so funny!” He turns back to Chuck, pokes him in the ribs again. Chuck swats at him. Terra Mike grabs at his arm, laughing. Before Chuck really knows what’s happening, they’re wrestling, almost pushing each other off their stools. Chuck’s laughing too, shoving at Mike until Mike grabs him, getting him in a headlock and giving him a thorough noogie, messing up his hair. Chuck yelps.

“Hey, don’t you have to get back to the Terras?” Burner Mike says suddenly.

Terra Mike stops, Chuck still in the headlock. Then Terra Mike lets him go. Chuck shakes his hair back into place.

“I guess,” Terra Mike says, smile fading slightly.

Burner Mike suddenly looks contrite. “I mean,” he says. “I just… They might want to know that you’re back safe. And stuff.”

“Yeah, you’re totally right,” Terra Mike says. “I was just. Well! I should go. I’ll come back tomorrow sometime for, like, debriefing? We should talk more about what we need to do to get ready.”

“Yeah,” Burner Mike says. “Yeah, cool. We’ll see you then?”

“Yeah, totally! I should get Leopold loaded back up. He’s probably chomping at the bit to get home, too.”

“You want a hand?” Burner Mike says.

“That’d be great.” He stands up. “Later, Chuck!” he says, and leans down for an extremely brief hug.

“Yeah, later!” Chuck says, slightly confused. “See you tomorrow!” he calls after Terra Mike as they leave the room. Terra Mike turns and waves at him cheerfully. So... it’s probably fine.

He’s not sure what just happened with the Mikes. But they never stay mad at each other for very long. Anyway, Burner Mike didn’t seem _mad,_ he seemed more _…_ well. They can work it out. Chuck should just mind his own business. Whatever it is, it probably doesn’t have anything to do with _him._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to BirchBow(chaoticTenebrism) for the idea and some of the phrasing for the embarrassing waterfall adventure.


	19. A bird in the hand

Chuck is minding his own business later that night, drinking a glass of juice on the living room couch, when Burner Mike comes in. He sees Chuck. He gets a weird look on his face. He comes over and flops down next to Chuck on the couch, eyes him sidelong. Chuck takes a long drink from his juice glass. Okay, what _now?_

"So," Mike says without preamble, "Terra Mike is pretty cool, right?"

Chuck definitely feels nervous about this conversation starter.

"Yeah?" he says. "He's really cool. Um. Why?"

Mike fidgets.

"Like, _how_ cool?" he asks. "Cool in the sense that you like hanging out with him, or… more cool than that?"

Chuck is not entirely sure what's happening right now, but he doesn't like it.

"What do you mean, more cool than that?"

"Like. Are you gonna take him up on his weird flirting?” Mike asks sourly.

Chuck chokes on his juice, completely blindsided.

 _"What?"_ he sputters when he stops coughing. "He's not… he doesn't… he's not _flirting_ with me!"

Mike give him an annoyed look. "He's totally into you, dude. It’s _obvious._ He's always trying to walk around in front of you with no shirt on. And practically no pants on! It's, like, textbook."

Chuck doesn't think that's textbook _anything,_ but whatever. "That's just a Terra thing!" he protests. "None of them wear shirts!"

Mike scowls. "Well, when _he_ doesn't wear a shirt, it's like he's… _extra shirtless._ Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed, I’ve _seen_ the way you look at him sometimes. Or the way you _don’t_ look at him, that’s even worse. And he gets _sad_ when you don’t look at his shorts? He's got _sad bootyshorts_ because of you, dude."

Chuck chokes again, stomach churning. Oh _shit,_ he’s apparently been _way_ more obvious about his crush on Terra Mike than he thought. Him and his stupid hot abs! Burner Mike hadn’t gotten upset like this when Chuck was into _Claire,_ he must be freaked out by the _really obvious_ implications of Chuck liking someone almost identical to _him._ This is happening, right here, right now.

"They're not… bootyshorts, oh my god!” Chuck finally manages, trying to deflect. “He's just… he's just wearing what he normally wears! It's like, his culture!"

 _"Bootyshorts_ is not a _culture,"_ Mike mutters, crossing his arms.

"What is your _problem?"_ Chuck squeaks. "He can wear whatever he wants! Why are you being a weird prude?"

"I'm _not…_ okay, how would _you_ like it if a guy who pretty much looked just like _you_ was hanging around in nothing but tiny shorts? Hitting on your best friend?"

“I’m telling you, dude, he’s not… _hitting_ on me?” Chuck says weakly. Though… the hair-touching… the odd innuendos… the bizarre compliments.... Chuck is starting to feel a little dizzy.

Mike rolls his eyes. “He totally got naked in front of you at the waterfall on purpose.”

“He got naked in front of _everyone!_ He doesn’t care!”

“Well, he was just _looking_ for an excuse to wrestle with you earlier. That’s _classic.”_

“Wha… _you_ wrestle with me _too,_ that doesn’t mean _you…”_

Chuck stops, furrows his brow. Mike’s eyes widen into a deer-in-the-headlights expression.

There's a long, fraught silence.

"I. Uh." Mike says. Chuck's heart starts pounding.

Okay. This _can't_ be what it seems like. There's no way. Mike _can't_ be…

"I only figured it out a little while ago!" Mike blurts. His face falls. "I… I'm too late. You're gonna ditch me for the mushroom prince! Which I guess is… fair. Considering."

"You… but…" Chuck can't seem to get a word out.

"I'm _sorry!"_ Mike says over him. "I know I'm kinda dense about this stuff, and I'm too late, and I don't want to make it weird, but… I couldn't just let him… I mean, if you like _him,_ you might be able to like _me,_ right? We're different, but we're also a lot the same, and I could try to be more chill, I could start meditating or something, and…"

"Mike!" Chuck holds up his hand. Mike stops, startled. But then Chuck doesn't know what to say. He doesn't know what to do with himself right now at _all_.

“Hold up. Just stop,” he finally manages. “You’re telling me. That you’re _into_ me. Like. In more than a friend way.”

“Yeah. Yes. That’s what I’m saying.”

"You really… you _like_ me."

Mike frowns. "You don't seem totally convinced, here."

Chuck has never been more confused in his life.

"I just! What!” he protests. “Since _when?_ I never thought you had even the faintest interest! You never… I mean, there was never any… you _didn’t!”_

“I just didn’t… I didn’t know! I didn’t get it! But now I do! I’m sorry!”

“You didn’t _know?_ But all of a sudden… why _now?"_

Mike looks frustrated. "I don't _know_ why it didn't occur to me before. Like, honestly, it didn't occur to me at _all,_ until I saw Mike being… _into_ you. I started thinking about it after we went to the Terras'. When he was _totally_ hitting on you at dinner! I started thinking… if _this_ version of me likes Chuck like that, then do _I?_ And then I thought… well. _Yeah._ Obviously. Some things I’d been feeling started making more sense. I think I’ve been into you ever since we met up down here, I just didn’t _realize_ it was more than..." He stops, furrows his brow. "I guess I just don’t… think about that stuff very often? Huh. I…”

Mike suddenly looks extremely alarmed.

“Oh. Oh shhh. It. Do you think… do you think Kane _tweaked_ me?”

That… is way too plausible. Chuck feels his stomach knot.

“I… maybe? God, I wouldn’t put it past him.”

Mike stares at Chuck in dawning horror. “Yeah. He wouldn’t have wanted me to get… distracted. Oh, man. He made it so I wouldn't think about… romance or whatever. Oh _crap!_ What if he edited my sex drive or something? Fffff!”

Chuck swallows. “He can’t have… made you not _able_ to do stuff, like the swearing, right? Or made you, like, grossed out by it? I mean. If you would’ve wanted to, before… ? That would have been too much of a change.” Chuck really hopes this is right.

“Yeah, no, I don’t think so? I don’t know, I’ve never tried?” Mike looks at Chuck and he’s got a weird, trepidatious, hopeful expression on his face. He's kind of… looking at Chuck's mouth. Chuck feels a rush of nerves.

“Um. Bro?" he says. Mike takes a deep breath.

"Can we. Test it out," Mike says.

"What?"

"Can I kiss you," Mike says nervously. "I gotta see if it… works."

Chuck feels even dizzier. "You want to kiss me. Right now."

"Yeah, dude, I totally do. And I… I really need to know. How much he tweaked me. You gotta help me out here, bro."

Chuck is suddenly overwhelmed by a knee-weakening, brain-liquifying rush of mingled heat and terror.

"Okay, yeah!" he squeaks. Mike leans forward. Chuck leans forward. They're… kind of far apart. Chuck shifts uncomfortably, scoots toward Mike, tries again. Mike leans forward again too, but then hesitates, inches away.

“What if I _can’t?”_ Mike whispers.

“Dude. We’ll deal with it. C’mon. _I’m_ supposed to be the anxious one. Let’s just… let’s just do it real fast. See what happens.” Chuck's hand is shaking. He knows there are people who don’t like doing sexy stuff, that's fine, that's normal, but if Kane _made_ Mike that way… _took_ it from him… that would be so messed up.

Mike bites his lip. Then he leans forward abruptly, mashes his mouth against Chuck's. For an awful second, Chuck thinks the whole thing is going horribly wrong. But then Mike seems to relax a little, gentling the kiss. When he pulls back, it's only to try again from a slightly different angle.

It takes them a while to get the hang of it. Chuck's heart is racing as Mike's hands tentatively find his hair, the back of his neck, travel down his spine. Chuck's sort of afraid to put his hand anywhere, so he just grips the couch cushions. Some tongue gets involved after a while. When Mike pulls away at last, he's laughing a little.

 _“Wow._ Okay," he says. "I don’t think this is going to be a problem.”

Chuck feels a wave of relief.

“You really… it’s okay?” he asks, to be sure.

"Yeah," Mike says, grinning. "It's _great!_ Let's do it some more." He bounces a little on the sofa. God, he's so _cute._ Chuck smiles helplessly.

They do it some more. For quite awhile.

"Hey," Mike says eventually, eyes dark. "Let's go to your room. We gotta… try some other stuff. To… make sure. That there's no problems. You know. Like a… a full systems check."

"Yeah," Chuck agrees breathlessly. "For science. We gotta… experiment. Run some tests."

"Yeah."

As it turns out, results are entirely positive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Motortitty for the phrase “sad bootyshorts.” I included it special in honor of the whole Motorcity discord. This chapter is dedicated to all of you >:3c


	20. Is worth two in the bush

When Chuck wakes up, he immediately feels the absence. Mike's not in the bed. That's… a bad sign, maybe. Shit. Chuck hauls himself up blearily, pulls on pants and a t-shirt, and goes to look for him.

He's in the kitchen, futzing around with the coffee maker. "Oh, hey!" he says when Chuck comes in. "I was just… trying to make you coffee? I know you like it when Dutch makes it, I don't think mine's as good, but, I'm doing it? It's almost ready?"

"Bro, you don't have to do that! You don't even drink coffee."

"I wanted to! I was going to bring it to you but… you're up?" Mike seems weirdly nervous. "Let me get you a cup." He gets a mug from the shelf, pulls the half-full pot out from under the drip, and pours a cup. Coffee keeps dripping out of the coffee maker, sizzling on the heating element. Mike hastily shoves the pot back under the drip. He hands the mug to Chuck. Chuck takes it, kind of bemused, leans back against the counter, and takes a sip. It's absolutely awful.

"Thanks, dude," he says. Mike leans against the counter next to him.

"Hey. Um. Thanks," Mike says shyly. "For last night. You didn't have to do that."

Chuck is even more confused.

"Mike, I _wanted_ to do that? Like, so bad. I've been wanting to do that forever?"

"Yeah? But…" Mike looks deeply uncertain. This is weird.

Chuck thinks a demonstration is called for. He puts down the coffee mug, leans over, and kisses Mike on the lips. Mike makes a "Hmmf?" sound and then closes his eyes, reaches out a hand and gently cups the back of Chuck's neck. "Mmm," he says into the kiss.

Terra Mike comes through the kitchen door.

Chuck startles. He pushes Mike back against the counter, too late. Chuck _sees_ the moment Terra Mike realizes what they were doing, sees, for the briefest instant, his eyes go wide and… hurt. Sees him immediately shake it off and grin at them, too many teeth as usual.

"Hey, sorry," he says, voice doubling. "I didn't know you guys were… in here. I was just. Um. Well, bye." He backs out.

Shit. _Shit._ Chuck hadn't even known he was back in the hideout. Chuck turns to Burner Mike to say something, he’s not even sure what, but snaps his mouth shut when he sees an identical hurt look on Burner Mike’s face. Mike is gripping the counter Chuck pushed him against, white-knuckled.

Terra Mike abruptly comes back into the room.

"No, you know what?" Terra Mike says. "No." He points at Burner Mike. "You. Me. Outside. Now."

"Okay, _what?"_ Chuck squeaks.

“Dude,” Burner Mike says.

“Come on, let’s go,” Terra Mike says, raising his fists, bouncing on the balls of his feet. "I'm gonna kick your ass so hard you won't be able to sit down for a week. You had like a year and a half and you do this _now?_ You're the good-looking one, you couldn't even let me have a _shot?"_

Burner Mike holds up his hands. “I’m not fighting you, dude!” he protests.

 _“Jerk,”_ Terra Mike hisses, fists still raised. “You get to _kiss_ him, you can’t even let me have _this?”_

“I’m not _letting_ you have anything. _You’re_ the one he really wants,” Burner Mike says flatly. He sounds completely sure of this, resigned. “I was just trying to keep him from running off to live in a mushroom hut while I had the chance. Go on,” he says to Chuck bitterly, tilting his head towards Terra Mike. “It’s fine. You gave me a night. That’s… that’s more than I deserve.”

“Wha… bu…” Chuck looks from Burner Mike to Terra Mike and back.

For a very, _very_ long moment, he’s paralyzed by the enormity of how blindingly, astronomically _stupid_ all three of them are.

Then he lunges at Burner Mike, grabs his shoulder, and pulls him forward, stumbling, until he’s next to Terra Mike. Chuck kisses Terra Mike hard on his rough lips, holding Burner Mike firmly in place. Then he kisses Burner Mike, just as hard.

 _“There,”_ he says desperately, breathlessly. “Okay? Is that okay? I’m not picking. I absolutely refuse to pick. You’re both dumb, perfect idiots and I love you both. So. Will you let me? Please say you’ll let me.”

“Oh, yeah, okay,” Terra Mike says, stunned.

“You… you _love_ me?” Burner Mike says, also stunned.

“Mike, for fuck’s sake, you’re my best friend, I thought that was _obvious,_ dude. You think I’d go over the Detroit Doom Jump with just _anybody?_ Of _course_ I love you.”

“But also… me?” Terra Mike asks hopefully.

“Of course,” Chuck says, incredulous. “You’re scary-hot, you’re _also_ my best friend, you ride a giant deer. What’s not to love?”

“I thought you didn’t like Leopold.”

“Mike. Come on,” Chuck says. Any second now he’s going to cry, or scream. “Do you guys want to do this or not?”

 _“I’m_ good with it,” Terra Mike says hastily. He puts a hand on Chuck’s back, then grips Burner Mike’s other shoulder, closing their awkward circle. “We’re trying to be less competitive, _right,_ bro?” he says to Burner Mike. “We can totally share?”

“Is… is that legal?” Burner Mike asks. Terra Mike snorts.

“Like you care about _legal.”_

“I just didn’t know you could _do_ that,” Burner Mike says. He still seems kind of stunned.

“Yeah, dude,” Chuck says gently. “If everyone’s cool with it, you can date more than one person at once.”

 _“Oh!”_ Burner Mike looks like he’s having a weird epiphany.

“Maybe I don’t need to kick your ass after all,” Terra Mike says.

“No!” Burner Mike says. “I mean… yeah! I mean… you won’t run off with him to the Terra village and I’ll never see him again?”

“What? No!”

“Then yeah,” Burner Mike says, shoulders slumping with relief. “Yeah, I’m good with it.”

“Oh, thank god,” says Terra Mike, letting out a long breath. The three of them lean their heads together, holding on to each other for a long moment, shaky.

“I didn’t think you really felt that way about me,” Burner Mike says to Chuck, abashed. “I thought if I could get you to kiss me and stuff you might, but…” He trails off.

“Mike,” Chuck says, a little disbelieving, “I popped off my own arm for you. Have I mentioned you’re an idiot?”

 _“Hey,”_ Terra Mike says, squeezing Burner Mike’s shoulder. “I didn’t think you felt that way about _me,_ either. Looks like _you’re_ the one who’s bad at communicating.”

“Yeah!” Burner Mike says. “I was sure you were gonna ditch me this morning, you jerk.”

“You let him think that?” Terra Mike says to Chuck accusingly. “Uncool, dude. Also, I can’t _believe_ you guys started the makeouts without me. _So_ uncool.”

“I didn’t _let_ him think anything, that’s the most ridiculous…  and _he_ started it… oh my god.” Chuck buries his reddening face in Terra Mike’s shoulder. “Okay,” he says, muffled. “I didn’t handle this very well. But. I think we’ve established. We’re all really dumb.” Terra Mike runs his hand up and down Chuck’s back.

“Yeah,” he says, voice low. “That’s fine. We’re good. It’s all good.”

“Yeah,” echoes Burner Mike softly.

Chuck raises his head.

“I love you idiots _so much,”_ he says fiercely. “I didn’t think you… I can’t believe you both…” He trails off.

“I totally do, though,” Terra Mike says.

“I didn’t know,” Burner Mike says quietly. “I’m sorry, I would’ve…”

“What do you mean, you didn’t know?” Terra Mike says, slightly concerned. “I knew, like, the second I saw him again. I couldn’t believe you weren't already hitting that, I thought maybe he wasn’t into guys or something. You didn’t notice how tall and cute he got?” Chuck sputters. Burner Mike flushes.

“Dude,” he says defensively. “We think Kane _tweaked_ me to be, like, dumb about this stuff. It didn't occur to me until I saw _you_ being into him. I just don't think that way."

Terra Mike frowns. "Huh. Shit. That's a pretty big tweak," he says, brow furrowed.

"Is it?" Burner Mike asks. Terra Mike suddenly looks slightly embarrassed.

"You're not. Um. Low-key kind of… horny all the time?"

"Oh my _god,"_ Chuck wheezes.

 _"What?_ No!"

"Well then yeah. It's a big tweak. That must be kind of nice, though, honestly," Terra Mike says. "Less distracting. I can barely think straight around this guy." He whacks Chuck in the side. Chuck squawks in protest.

"Yeah, I _know,"_ Burner Mike says. "You're pretty obvious about it, dude."

“Well, good thing!” Terra Mike says cheerfully, shaking Burner Mike’s shoulder a little. “Otherwise you might _never_ have bought a clue, haha!”

“You’re such a dick,” Buner Mike says, but he’s smiling.

“Then by definition, _you’re_ also…”

“So!” Chuck interrupts. “You guys are cool, right? No fighting?”

“Well.” Terra Mike grins crookedly at Burner Mike. “Maybe we could fight each other, like, for fun?”

Burner Mike is startled into smiling back. "I… Yeah! But I'm not gonna go easy on you, dude."

"Oh, like you'd have to." Terra Mike lets them both go to crack his knuckles, grinning. "I'll have you on the ground in five seconds."

"Yeah, right! We'll see who ends up flat on his back."

Chuck swallows. Do they even _hear_ themselves? Okay, whatever. They’re going to have to work that out separately.

“Hey,” Chuck breaks in, leaning limply on Burner Mike, “fight later, you dorks. We’ve got a couple days before we move on KaneCo, I don’t want to die without going on a date. You guys wanna watch a movie or something?” It’s like ten in the morning, but he doesn’t care.

"Sure! Let's do this!” Terra Mike says immediately. “Can we watch one of those kung fu movies Texas likes?"

"I've already seen all of those," Burner Mike says. "How about the new Hypraman movie? Didn't Julie send a copy down?"

Terra Mike ignores this. "Ooooo! How about one of those old nature documentaries Jacob has?"

"What? _Definitely_ not, those are boring."

 _"You're_ boring."

"I am _not!"_

"GUYS!" Chuck throws his hand up in the air. "We're gonna watch the new Hypraman movie, because none of us have seen it, and you're both going to shut up and _like it!_ And we’re gonna make _popcorn_ and it’ll be _romantic!_ Let’s do something _right_ for once! _God!”_

The Mikes look at each other. Burner Mike flicks a glance at Chuck. He seems a little flustered. Terra Mike grins toothily.

"He's _cute_ when he's bossy, isn't he?" he says to Burner Mike.

Burner Mike gapes, taken aback. Terra Mike winks at him.

Chuck already regrets this. Also, this is the best thing that’s ever happened to him. He laughs giddily.

They burn the popcorn. When they get to Chuck’s room, the Mikes squabble over who gets to be on Chuck’s right side and hold his hand. Chuck just barely stops them from arm-wrestling. They end up flipping a coin. Terra Mike wins, best two out of three. The movie Julie sent is a glitchy bootleg. Chuck dozes off in the middle of it. It’s the dumbest date ever. Everything is perfect.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is also dedicated to the Motorcity discord. >:3c x 2


	21. Too much of a good thing

Chuck blinks awake during the credits because Terra Mike is rubbing circles with his thumb on the back of Chuck’s hand. Chuck forces his eyes open, turns his head. Mike is looking at him through his eyelashes, eyes heavy-lidded.

Chuck suddenly understands the meaning of the phrase “bedroom eyes.” He blushes.

Terra Mike runs a fingertip slowly, purposefully, up Chuck’s arm.

Chuck blushes harder. He glances to his left, over at Burner Mike. Mike is sitting up, absently watching the credits roll. Chuck looks meaningfully at Terra Mike. Terra Mike does not get the message Chuck intends him to get. Instead, he leans across Chuck and pokes Burner Mike in the side. Mike jumps.

“Hey,” Terra Mike says. “I gotta go back to the Terras’ in like an hour, so do you mind if I, uh. Talk to Chuck. Alone. For awhile.”

“Oh my god,” Chuck says.

Burner Mike gives them a long look. Chuck flushes even deeper, mortified. _“Wow,”_ Burner Mike finally says. He rolls his eyes. “Don’t be _subtle_ about it or anything.” He swings his legs over the edge of the bed.

 _“Hey.”_ Terra Mike looks annoyed. “You know what? You already _got_ ‘alone time,’ so shoo! Go build a car or something, I have catching up to do. Once I leave he’s all yours, anyway, you _live_ here.”

"Oh my god," Chuck says again, face flaming. _“Mike.”_

 _“What?”_ Terra Mike says. “Honest communication is the basis for healthy relationships. I’m _communicating.”_

“You can’t just _kick him out_ like that!” Chuck sputters.

“Nah, I get it, I’m going, it’s only fair,” Burner Mike says, standing up, taking his time. Then he says, “But we're making a schedule, so it _stays_ fair." Terra Mike grins at him wickedly.

"Or, going forward we can just double-team him," he says casually. "But I want a little one-on-one time right now, okay?"

Burner Mike abruptly flushes, cheeks darkening. _"Oh my god,_ okay, I'm leaving," he says. He backs out of the room, shuts the door hurriedly.

Chuck can hardly breathe. "You guys are seriously going to kill me," he wheezes. "What have I done."

"Relax," Mike laughs, "I'm just messing with him!" He eyes Chuck sidelong. "Unless… you _wanna_ get double-teamed?"

 _"Shut your dirty mouth,_ oh my GOD!”

Mike laughs again. "Okay, let's table that topic. Where were we?" He leans up on his elbow, trails his hand down Chuck’s chest.

“Cool your jets for a second, Romeo,” Chuck says. He’s never experienced this combination of arousal and annoyance before, but it’s making it hard to think. “Shouldn’t we _talk_ about stuff?”

“No?” Mike says petulantly. “I wanna make out.”

“Look,” Chuck says firmly, “I didn’t talk about stuff with Mike before we… you know… and I _really_ should have. I’m dumb, but I’m not too dumb to learn from my mistakes, okay? Can we just _talk_ for a second?”

Mike sighs. Oh, he is so _put upon._ Chuck scowls at him.

“What do you want to talk about?” Mike says.

“I just want to make sure we’re cool!” Chuck says. “I feel bad about you… finding out that way. And about starting stuff with the other Mike without getting everything clear with both of you.”

Mike shrugs. “Sometimes things just happen, I mean, why _wouldn’t_ you go for it? Other Mike is hot.”

Chuck makes a very dumb high-pitched noise, clears his throat.

“Sorry I got all weird about it,” Mike continues. “I just got jealous because I thought you guys didn’t do polyamory. Being the third wheel sucks.”

“I mean,” Chuck says. “I knew polyamory was a _thing._ Do the Terras… is that pretty common?”

“Oh, you have _no_ idea,” Mike says, rolling his eyes. “There’s _so_ much drama.”

“Wow. Okay. Why _me,_ then?” Chuck asks, a little tentatively. “Why not another Terra, or, or, I dunno, anyone really?”

Mike gives him an odd look. “There’s only like a hundred Terras, I’ve already dated everyone there who’s even remotely interested. Never really clicked.”

Chuck clears his throat again. “Oh!” he says.

“Anyway,” Mike says, “you really wanna know why _you?_ It’s because you’re smart and cute and funny and brave and my best friend who I missed for six years.” Mike leans forward a little, brushes Chuck’s hair out of his eyes, tucks half of his bangs behind his ear. “When I saw you again it was like someone shot me in the chest. I didn’t think I had a chance, you know? What with the other Mike and everything else that was going on. But. This whole time. I’d been hoping it wasn’t just me.”

“Oh. Um,” Chuck says.

“Is that enough talking?” Mike says, voice husky. Chuck nods helplessly.

Mike leans forward a little more and kisses him.

Mike’s lips are rough and uneven. Their teeth click against each other. Mike’s mouth tastes _green,_ like the smell of Jacob’s tomato plants. The instant Mike makes a move to pull back, Chuck grabs his hair, pressing their lips back together. Chuck sticks his tongue into Mike’s mouth, scraping it against his sharp teeth. Mike makes a surprised, happy humming sound. He licks at Chuck’s lips in return. Chuck opens them, and Mike’s tongue makes a cautious foray, licks the roof of his mouth. Chuck makes an approving noise. Mike does it again, a little farther in. Uh, _wow,_ his tongue is _really_ long. Chuck doesn’t know whether to be freaked out or turned on. He pulls back. They stare at each other for a second.

Mike looks down, looks back up at Chuck hesitantly through his eyelashes. “Was that okay?” he asks, concerned. "Kissing's not exactly… my specialty."

“It was _great._ Can you stick out your tongue?”

“Uh, sure?” Mike sticks it out a little.

“No. Like, all the way.”

Mike sticks his tongue out further. And further. It just keeps going.

“Okay, _stop,”_ Chuck says. He realizes uncomfortably that he is _definitely_ turned on. “Your tongue is freakishly long,” he says. “I wish I had a measuring tape, that’s gotta be some kind of record. Is that a Terra thing?”

“Wow,” Mike says. “You are _such_ a nerd.” Then he eyes Chuck, a little speculative, a little sly. "You wanna… see some stuff I can do with it?"

"Hhhhh?" Chuck says.

Mike leans forward, a small smile playing across his dangerous mouth. "I want to show you some things," he says, throaty. "I bet I can make you scream." He pauses. "But, like, in a _good_ way."

"Okay," Chuck says breathlessly, heart racing, "your lines need a little work, dude. But yeah. That sounds… awesome."

It's totally awesome.

***

Burner Mike is _actually_ building a car when Chuck finds him later. He’s in the garage, messing around in Mutt’s engine.

“Oh!” Mike says, seeing him. “Uh. You guys are. Well. Did he have to leave?”

“Yeah, he climbed out the window like a weirdo.” Chuck leans against Mutt’s side. Mike puts down the vacuum bleeder and ducks out from under the hood, wiping his hands on his pants, and leans on Mutt next to Chuck.

“Hey,” Chuck says, “I didn’t mean for you to get kicked out like that. You okay?"

“Yeah,” Mike says. “It’s only fair. And, um. Terra Mike has some... interesting ideas. He seems to be, uh. More experienced. You think maybe he'd give me some pointers?”

Chuck's brain completely short circuits. "Uh!" he says.

"He's probably better at stuff than me," Mike says, frowning a little. "But not for long. I'm gonna practice. You know I'm a fast learner. You'll see, I'm gonna totally blow your mind."

 _"Mike,"_ Chuck says, "that's not... I mean... you don't have to do anything special? It pretty much blows my mind that you want to make out with me at all."

"Still," Mike says, intent. "I'm not gonna let him beat me at boyfriending! You gotta tell me some stuff you think is romantic, I bet I could at least get one up on him in terms of like, taking you out on nice dates that don't involve eating weird stuff or being gratuitously naked outside."

"Oh my god," Chuck says weakly. "That's not how this _works!_ You don't have to fight over me, you've already _got_ me. I'm both of yours."

“Yeah, dude, I totally get that. But." Mike grins at him, that bright, fearless smile. "Right now, you’re all mine again,” Mike says happily, and leans over and kisses him. Chuck kisses him back, a little surprised. Mike runs a hand through his hair. Then he runs the hand over the back of Chuck’s neck, down his spine. Then both of Mike’s hands are on Chuck’s waist, pulling him in. Mike breaks the kiss, pushes his hands under Chuck’s shirt and runs them up his back, looking at him intently.

“You _are_ mine, right?” Mike asks.

“Yeah,” Chuck says breathlessly. “Of course.”

“Will you show me?” Mike asks, grinding his hips against Chuck’s ever so slightly. “I want you to show me.” Uh. Wow. Mike is… _interested_ in Chuck right now, Chuck can feel his _interest_ through his jeans.

“I… I can do that,” Chuck says. He _can,_ actually; to his own surprise, he’s quickly getting _interested_ as well. He supposes that at _some_ point he’s going to have to stop having sex with one Mike or the other and like, eat food or sleep or something, but apparently that point has not yet arrived and Chuck is _definitely_ not complaining.

Chuck takes Mike back to bed and shows him, very thoroughly.


	22. Pedal to the metal

Chuck fumbles around with the coffee maker, trying to get the filter in right.

This has been a very… _interesting_ few days. The Mikes have really embraced this dating thing, especially the part that involves inappropriate touching. Terra Mike has responsibilities at the Terras,’ so he isn't around all the time, but when he is, he seems to have a way of just _appearing_ when Burner Mike isn't there to steal kisses and grope Chuck shamelessly. Burner Mike keeps pulling Chuck into the storage room under blatantly transparent pretexts—or the bathroom, or one of their rooms, or behind the kitchen island on one memorable occasion—and enthusiastically making out with him. And last night Terra Mike climbed through his window at two in the morning like a complete _lunatic._ He's not complaining, he's _definitely_ not complaining. Just. _Wow._ He's _tired._ He grins blearily at the coffee pot.

Arms fold around him from behind, a warm, strong body pressing into his back.

"Hey," says Burner Mike. “What are you smiling about?”

Chuck laughs breathlessly. “You,” he says. He gives up on the coffee maker, turns around in Mike’s arms, and kisses him. Ugh, morning breath. Worth it.

Texas comes in, yawning, and catches them mid-kiss.

"Okay, that's gross," he says. "Get a room. I mean, a different room than the one _I’m_ in.” Chuck scowls at him. Mike blushes.

Julie wanders in. She looks fresh, rested, like she always does after a night in Motorcity. She came down late last night, intending to go over all the details of the plan with them today. “What’s up, guys?” she says brightly.

“These two are in here all kissin’ on each other. Like _always_ these days. Totally unfair, Skinny,” Texas says to Chuck. “I can’t believe you have _two_ hot dates and Texas doesn’t even have _one.”_

Chuck can’t help smiling a little triumphantly. Julie snorts. “He’s right, it’s kind of gross,” she says fondly. “But also cute. Carry on.” She waves a hand grandly.

"Hey, Beatrice," Texas says, flexing, "I betcha we could make out better than these nerds. Whaddaya say? Wanna show ‘em how it's done?"

"Oh my god," Julie says.

“I’m _serious,_ Valerie,” Texas says, sounding slightly hurt. “You and me are _way_ hotter than these guys, we should be on the smooch express to make-out town!”

“Texas,” Julie says, “you are unbelievable.”

“I _know,_ right?” Texas says proudly. He flexes again.

“I literally can’t believe you are a real person who actually exists.”

“You’re not answering my question!” Texas says. “ _I_ can’t believe you’re not jumping at the chance to touch these _guns!_ You want flowers? Jacob’s growing some, I can grab them right now! You want candy? I got loads from last Mayhem Night! What do I gotta do to convince you, huh?”

“Well, _maybe,_ ” Julie says, startling Chuck, “you should try calling me by my _name!”_

 _“Julie,”_ Texas says, looking affronted and crossing his arms, “you _know_ I just do that to piss you off.”

Julie rolls her eyes. “Not the best flirting strategy, big guy.”

“Well, if my sweet muay thai kicks don’t get you to fall for me, I don’t know what _will!”_ Texas says, sounding frustrated.

Julie strides forward until she’s right in Texas’ face. She’s only a little shorter than he is. She stares him directly in the eyes, and flicks his hat off his head.

“Hey!” Texas yells. “What the _heck?”_

“You could try having some _respect!”_ she snaps. “And not calling me Ms. Deluxe!”

“You’re the _ultimate_ Ms. Deluxe!” Texas says, not giving an inch. “Because you're gonna take the whole place over! And you're gonna make it AWESOME! Then when I call you Ms. Deluxe it'll mean you're the COOLEST! And you already ARE the coolest, so you're gonna be ULTRA MEGA COOL. Maybe even cooler than _Texas!_ And that's why you should _make out_ with me! It would create, like, a coolness _vortex_ that would make everyone's heads explode! It would be AWESOME!"

They glare at each other for a long moment. Then Julie makes a really angry noise and grabs Texas’ face in both hands and kisses him. Texas grabs her face right back, mashing their lips together, and Chuck winces because it looks kind of painful. But Julie doesn’t pull away; instead she fists a hand in Texas’ hair, yanking it hard. When they come up for air, they’re both red in the face.

“Dang, Cynthia,” Texas growls. “Show me what _else_ you learned in Deluxe.” Julie makes another angry noise and _jumps_ on him, wrapping her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck and kissing him again, fiercely. Texas grabs her butt, holding her up. Without breaking the kiss, he carries her out of the room, slamming the door behind him with his foot. He leaves his hat on the floor.

Chuck and Mike stare after them in stunned silence.

“Well!” Chuck says after a long while, voice high. _“That_ was a thing that just happened.”

“Sure _was,”_ Mike says.

“Did you know that was even… ?”

“Nnnnope!” There’s another long silence. Then Terra Mike comes in. His hair is a mess and he’s wearing Chuck’s _Lazer Swords 3_ boxer shorts and nothing else. He sees Burner Mike.

“I totally _just_ got here,” he says, raising his hands. “Just now.” Burner Mike rolls his eyes.

“I shouldn’t have even bothered making that schedule,” he says.

Chuck turns back to the coffee maker. He really, really, _really_ needs some coffee.

***

They reconvene later that morning in Mutt Dogs. Or at least some of them do. Julie is nowhere to be found. Neither is Texas. Dutch sits down at the table with Terra Mike, who is actually wearing some clothes by this point. Ayana has gotten slightly obsessed with their racing game and is in the corner fiddling with it. Burner Mike looks out over the garage. Nine Lives isn’t there. He flops down at the table next to Chuck.

“Where the heck is Julie?” Mike says, irritated. “We were supposed to go over the plan. Where’s Texas? Are they _still_ making out?”

“Hold up, _what?”_ Dutch says.

“They’re _making out?”_ asks Terra Mike gleefully. Chuck and Mike ignore them both.

“Give her a call,” Chuck says.

It pings for a long while, then Mike’s screen flickers and Julie’s face pops up. Her shirt is on inside out. The background looks familiar. She’s in a room at the Skylark Motel. Burner Mike’s face goes bright red.

“Julie, I thought we were going to go over the plan?” Dutch asks over Burner Mike’s shoulder, confused. “What are you doing at the Skylarks’?”

“I had some things to do,” Julie says blandly.

“She’s talkin’ about _me!”_ Texas’ voice yells from somewhere in the background. “I’m things!”

“Shut up, you ding-dong!” Julie yells over her shoulder. She turns back to the screen. She looks… slightly smug. “Anyway,” she says.

 _“Nice,”_ Terra Mike says, giving her a thumbs up. “Get it, girl.”

Julie narrows her eyes at him. _“Anyway,”_ she says firmly. “We’ll be back in half an hour. Sorry for the delay.”

“Uh,” Burner Mike says, still blushing. “That’s… fine! You… take your time.”

“Don’t worry,” Julie says, completely straight-faced. “I did.”

“Oh my god,” Burner Mike says, blushing harder. Terra Mike laughs delightedly.

“See you guys in a bit,” Julie says, allowing just the ghost of a smile to break through. She hangs up.

“I do _not,”_ Dutch says, putting his head in his hands, _“believe_ this. How. How did _Texas…_ I don’t understand.”

“Hey, Texas has a lot of good qualities,” Burner Mike says defensively, still blushing.

“Yeah, at least _six!_ Have you _seen_ his abs?” laughs Terra Mike. Chuck shoves him.

“Don’t worry,” Terra Mike says to Chuck, still laughing, “I’m more of a brain guy.” He winks. Chuck flushes.

“I hate you _so much,”_ Chuck says.

Dutch sighs deeply into his hands.

***

When Julie and Texas get back in Nine Lives and join everyone else in Mutt Dogs, Texas has the biggest hickey Chuck has _ever_ seen right below his jaw. He’s not even trying to hide it. He sits down next to Dutch and elbows him.

“I didn’t do a single thing you said, but it still worked somehow,” he whispers confidingly, then tries to give Dutch a fistbump.

“Man, don’t _even_ get me mixed up in whatever _this_ is,” Dutch says, crossing his arms. Julie clears her throat loudly. Texas ducks his head.

Julie stays standing at the end of the table and glares around as if daring anyone to say anything. Terra Mike grins at her, but he keeps his mouth shut.

“So!” Julie says briskly, all business. “Let’s talk strategy.”

“Yes!” Burner Mike says hastily. “Strategy!”

“If all goes well, it'll be a pretty straightforward mission,” Julie says. “We just need to get Chuck into communications central control and get the transmission uploaded, then get you guys out of there as fast as possible before shit hits the fan. Tooley can get you into KaneCo tower. And I’ve got the access codes for central control from Red. I’ll be in the tower running comms, so I can back you up if you need me, but unless something goes sideways I’m just going to keep an eye on things and make sure you don’t run into any Elites. Texas and Dutch, you guys still good keeping watch on the exit?”

“You bet, Mandy,” Texas says cheerfully.

“Great. Then all we need to do is to work out the details.”

Julie transfers maps of KaneCo tower’s maze-like basement into Chuck and Ayana’s databanks, and they figure out a few efficient paths to communications central control. They go over the the route, the access codes, and potential means of escape for another hour. Ayana gives Chuck and Burner Mike copies of the datastick containing the transmission, and keeps one for herself. “Redundancy is key,” she says sagely. She shows them how her camera bugs work, sending one to spy on Jacob in the kitchen where he’s making some unidentifiable casserole. Once they’re all feeling good about the plan, Julie crosses her arms and eyes them all evaluatingly.

“If something goes wrong,” she says, “I have a backup plan. I’m hoping I won’t have to use it. But I’ve got a bunch of angles covered.” She looks at each of them in turn. “We can make this happen. We just have to go for it. Full speed, no brakes, pedal to the metal.”

“We’re good at that,” Burner Mike says.

“All right.” Julie takes a deep breath. “It’s go time. We move tomorrow.”

***

Julie can’t stay for dinner. She doesn’t want to rouse even the slightest bit of suspicion. Burner Mike fills Jacob in over the meal, and he makes sure they all eat seconds. Texas sequesters himself in his room “to get pumped,” and Dutch goes off to wherever Dutch goes. Chuck and the Mikes linger in the hideout kitchen. Burner Mike starts washing the dishes, and Chuck helps by rinsing them. Terra Mike gets a dish towel and does the drying. When the dishes are done and put away, they wander into the living room. Chuck sits down on the couch, and Burner Mike flops down next to him.

“Hey, we haven’t had our fight yet,” Terra Mike says to Burner Mike, sprawling out on Chuck’s other side. Burner Mike grins at him.

“Yeah, ‘cause I don’t want to send you back to the Terras all beat up,” he says.

“Oh HO! Fightin’ words indeed,” Terra Mike says.

“Guys,” Chuck says, “please don’t fight each other right before we take on KaneCo, that is _such_ bad timing.”

“Well, when we get done with this whole thing,” Terra Mike says to Burner Mike, “you're going _down.”_

“Yeah, right. I’m going to pound you into the floor.”

“Oh my _god,”_ Chuck says, “will you two just… you know what, never mind.”

Terra Mike leers at Chuck. “I know what you’re thinking,” he says. Chuck chokes.

“What?” Burner Mike says.

Terra Mike leans over Chuck and stage-whispers to Burner Mike, “I think he _enjoys_ thinking about us fighting _._ You know. Like, shirtless and sweaty and stuff.” Chuck hits him with a throw pillow, sputtering.

“Oh my god,” Burner Mike says. “You seriously have such a one-track mind. How do you even function?”

“I function just fine,” Terra Mike says, grinning. “Chuck knows what I’m talking about.”

“Oh my god, I hate you,” Chuck says.

“I _was_ going to ask you for some pointers about that stuff, but you’re such a smug dick about it,” Burner Mike says.

“Wait, pointers, like, _sex_ tips?” Terra Mike says, puzzled. “Why would _you_ need pointers from _me?”_

Burner Mike looks at him blankly. “Well, Chuck and I haven’t really done this before.”

“What?” Terra Mike wrinkles his forehead.

“Oh my god,” Chuck says. Terra Mike looks from Chuck to Burner Mike and back.

“You haven’t done _this_ before? Like, sex. You haven’t done _sex_ before.”

“Should I have?” Burner Mike says, confused. Chuck can feel his face getting hot.

Terra Mike stares at them. “You guys seriously _just_ lost your virginity. This week. To _each other._ You _guys.”_ A grin slowly spreads across his face. “That’s so dorky.”

Chuck hits him with the throw pillow again. “Hey!” he sputters. “Just because you’ve boned like half the Terras, you don’t get to judge!”

“Haha, it’s sweet!” Terra Mike says, hands up defensively to ward off more pillow attacks. He’s grinning wickedly. “You guys are cute! I can’t believe I missed that, though. It was probably a train wreck.”

“No way!” Burner Mike says defensively. “I thought I did pretty good, _right,_ Chuck?” Chuck can’t even form words, he just makes a mortified wheezing noise.

“I mean, I’m sure you did.” Terra Mike’s grin intensifies. “For a _beginner.”_

“Oh, that’s how you wanna play it? I’ll show you _‘beginner,’”_ Burner Mike says. He leans over and kisses Chuck, very intensely. Chuck makes a surprised noise into the kiss.

“Oh yeah?” Terra Mike says. He leans in and starts nibbling Chuck’s neck. Then he puts a hand up Chuck’s shirt. Burner Mike is still kissing him. Chuck starts thinking that this, right here, might be the moment he dies. Burner Mike _also_ puts a hand up Chuck’s shirt. Yep, Chuck is _definitely_ going to die. Their hands abruptly meet on Chuck’s chest. They startle, pull away from Chuck, and stare at each other. Chuck swallows hard.

“Okay, whose turn is it, though?” Burner Mike asks, a little breathless. “I think it’s mine, since you totally snuck in last night.”

“Oh, please, like you don’t get up to stuff while I’m gone,” Terra Mike says tetchily.

Chuck takes a deep breath. Okay, this is ridiculous. As hot as… whatever almost just happened was, they have other priorities right now.

“Guys,” Chuck breaks in, “do _I_ get a say in this? I’m here too.”

The Mikes look at him. They seem nervous.

“I’m not banging _either_ of you idiots,” Chuck says. “We need to be on point tomorrow, we should get some sleep. But… will you both stay? I... I'd really like you to both stay the night.”

The Mikes breathe out in unison.

“Yeah,” Terra Mike says.

“Yeah,” Burner Mike echoes.

***

The three of them climb into Chuck’s bed later somewhat subdued. Chuck is pretty sure they’re all worried about tomorrow; what might go wrong, what it could mean if things go _right._ Chuck's definitely nervous.

“I hate going back to Deluxe,” he says to the ceiling, lying between the Mikes.

“I haven’t been back,” Terra Mike says. “Not since Kane… threw me out.”

“Oof,” Burner Mike says. “At least I got to tell him where he could stick it. You didn’t get to do that.”

“Not _yet,”_ Terra Mike says. Chuck can hear the smile in his voice. “Maybe tomorrow.”

“We better _not_ run into Kane tomorrow,” Chuck says. “We’ll be right in the middle of KaneCo headquarters. If something goes wrong, it could get ugly.”

“Don’t say that. We’ll be fine,” Burner Mike says. “This team is unbeatable.”

Chuck looks at him seriously.

“Aren’t you scared?” he asks.

“Yeah,” Terra Mike says immediately. Burner Mike looks at him, looks back at Chuck.

“Maybe a little bit,” he admits softly. “You know it’s hard for me to tell, though.”

Chuck nods. “I know,” he says.

“We’ll be okay,” Burner Mike says confidently. Chuck smiles at him. He’s so _certain._ Despite himself, Chuck feels a little reassured. He reaches across himself, cups Burner Mike’s face. Mike leans into his touch. Then Chuck pulls his hand back and pets Terra Mike’s hair, a little awkwardly. Then he reaches back over to Burner Mike, but hesitates, frowning.

“Goddamn. I wish I had two hands,” he says, frustrated. Terra Mike bursts out laughing.

“When this is all over,” Burner Mike says seriously, “we’ll get you the best bioware arm money can buy.”

“Maybe two,” says Terra Mike, still laughing. “How’d you like to have _three_ arms? Ooooo! Can you get a vibrator attachment?”

“Shut up,” Burner Mike says. “You’re nasty.”

“You love me.”

Burner Mike blushes. But he smiles at Terra Mike challengingly.

“Yeah. I guess I kinda do.”

“Oh.” Now Terra Mike is blushing. “Well. You know. Same.”

Chuck looks up at the ceiling as if the heavens so far above him could give him strength.

 _“Idiots,”_ he says fervently. “Go to _sleep.”_

They tussle over the blankets. Terra Mike pillows his head on Chuck’s arm until it gets tingly and Chuck has to push him off. Burner Mike starts snoring _really_ loudly at one point, and they have to shake him awake. But they all finally find a comfortable equilibrium. Legs tangled together, they settle into the dark womb of Motorcity’s endless night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Ammoth for the idea for the virginity conversation LOL.


	23. From bad to worse

It’s early morning when they stash the cars in an access tunnel, Roth buzzing about anxiously.

“You’ll be fine, buddy,” Dutch says to him. Roth beeps uncertainly. Dutch and Texas are in full Deluxe security uniforms, complete with helmets. The rest of them activate holograms that conceal their Motorcity clothes with the stark blue and white colors of Deluxe. Terra Mike pulls on a surgical mask to cover the lower half of his face. He looks a little weird, but enough people in Deluxe are germ-phobic that the sight of someone in a surgical mask shouldn’t raise any alarms.

“Okay,” Burner Mike says, looking around at all of them. “You ready for this?” Everyone nods, grim-faced. Burner Mike turns to Chuck. “Work your magic,” he says.

Chuck pulls up a screen, quickly finds his way into the access tunnel’s programming, and activates the door. It slowly slides open, and the colorless light of Deluxe pours into the dark space, blinding him for a second. Burner Mike takes a deep breath, then strides forward. They all follow, up into the bright, dangerous morning.

***

Tooley is at the agreed-upon entrance to KaneCo tower, an employees-only side door set into the massive north wall. When he sees them coming across the empty plaza he waves, then does a double-take and puts his hand down. When they get to him, he looks nervous.

“Good morning, sir!” he says, and salutes Dutch. “We are not doing anything suspicious at all!”

“They’re not _actually_ security?” Chuck says, rolling his eyes. Texas and Dutch pull off their helmets. Dutch’s hair springs free with a bounce, a little squashed. Texas grins fiercely. “Hey again, little guy,” he says to Tooley.

“Oh!” Tooley says. “It’s you!”

“You know it,” Texas says. Tooley looks relieved. Texas and Dutch pull the helmets back on.

“Okay, I’ll let you guys in,” Tooley says, and turns to the door. He types in a code. The screen beeps, and the door hisses open. He ushers them inside, onto a landing in a massive stairwell, illuminated with harsh fluorescents. Tooley leads them down a flight of stairs to another door, which he again opens with a code. He peeks his head through the door theatrically and looks both ways.

“No one out here,” he stage-whispers over his shoulder. “You’re good to go.”

“Thanks, Tooley,” Burner Mike says. “Dutch and Texas will stay back and guard the exit.”

“I’ll stay too! I can help guard,” Tooley says.

“You got it, little man,” Texas says, and stretches out a hand for a fist-bump. Tooley’s face lights up. He bumps Texas’ fist with his own reverently. Chuck pulls up his screen full of maps, looks at Ayana and the Mikes. Burner Mike nods, and Chuck leads them out the door and into the basement of KaneCo tower.

***

It’s quiet. Chuck would say it’s _too_ quiet, but he doesn’t want to jinx it. Burner Mike has a comms channel open to Julie, and her icon hovers next to his shoulder. The hallways are empty and stark. The few large rooms they pass through are filled with banks of humming machinery, its purpose opaque. After what feels like an eternity, Chuck leads them around a final corner and they’re standing in front of an unprepossessing door. A sign affixed to it reads “Communications Central Control.” Chuck wordlessly approaches, hovers his hand over the heavy-duty security keypad. He glances back at Ayana. She nods.

Chuck types the code Red gave them into the keypad, hits enter.

Nothing happens.

“Uh, guys?” Chuck says. “It’s not…”

The hallway suddenly goes dark, red lights flashing. An alarm starts blaring.

“Oh, shit,” Chuck says weakly. Terra Mike grabs his shoulder.

“That’s _bad,_ isn’t it,” he says.

"Oh, for _fuck's_ s..." Julie's icon starts, then cuts out for a second, pops back in.

“Julie?” Burner Mike says into the comms.

“I’ve…” Her voice is garbled, static-y. She sounds like she’s on the move. “... _situation…_ going to...” She cuts out again.

A screen opens up. It’s Red. He’s got his armor half on, helmet in his hand.

Chuck’s heart sinks into his shoes.

“Well, Chilton,” Red says happily, “I’m on my way. Looks like I’ll be putting you back in a cell shortly. That’ll be fun. Lucky me.”

“You _idiot!”_ Burner Mike yells, enraged. “This was our best chance!”

Red laughs. “I’ve got plans, Chilton,” he says. “Bigger plans than you. I don’t need _you_ to take Kane down. Handing you over is going to cement his trust in me. And with you and all your little friends out of the way, I’ll… _oof.”_

Suddenly something yellow is sticking out of Red’s chest. It’s making a sizzling noise. He looks down at it. “What?” he says breathlessly. He turns around. There’s a boomerang handle embedded in his back.

Red slumps sideways against the wall, revealing Julie standing in the doorway. Her face is a frozen, terrifying mask. “I should have known better,” she says, striding forward. Then the screen glitches, goes blank.

There’s a long silence, except for the alarm.

“Welp,” Terra Mike says, “it was nice knowin’ you guys.”

“No,” Chuck says frantically. “No, no, no! So they know we’re in here, we can still, we can…”

“RUN!” Burner Mike growls, grabbing his arm and pulling him, stumbling, back the way they came. Terra Mike and Ayana follow, Ayana pulling up a screen as she runs.

“Red triple-crossed us! Everything’s going tits up!” Ayana yells into the comms. “Everyone retreat!”

“No can do, lady,” Texas’ voice comes back, “we’re… oof! I gotta go! I got punchin’ to do!”

“Ff. Uck!” Burner Mike screams. It almost sounds like the real word.

“No!” Julie’s icon suddenly pops up. “You guys need to get back to central control right now! If you try to retreat they’ll kill you! Elites are coming down from the upper levels! But I turned off the central control alarm and turned on a bunch of others around the building to throw them off! They don’t know where you are yet, Red didn’t tell them so he could be the big hero! You’ve got one shot!”

“They’ll just kill us in central control when they find us!” Mike yells. “We’ll be trapped! We can’t even get in the door!”

“I can get that door open,” Ayana says breathlessly.

“Listen,” Julie says, “do you guys trust me?”

Mike stops running. Everyone else stops behind him. He takes a deep breath. “Yes,” he says. Mike, who jumped out of a building when Julie told him to. She caught him then. Chuck can only hope she’ll catch them now.

“Yes,” Chuck says.

“Then _go_ ,” she says.

***

They’re cut off almost immediately. A squad of Elites comes marching by the T-intersection they just passed, barely missing seeing them as they back up. Ayana launches a camera bug to keep an eye on them. Chuck frantically searches his maps for an alternate route, starts leading them through the labyrinthine basement again. They’re about to enter a large room when more Elites start pouring into it from the other side. They hastily retreat, but Ayana grabs them before they can go too far.

“You’ll just run right into the other squad,” she whispers, “they’re still in the hallway back there.” She sends another bug flying down the hall into the big room, looks at her screen’s feeds wide-eyed.

“They’re coming this way!” she whispers. “We’re trapped!”

“Stay here,” Terra Mike hisses, “we’ll draw them off. Then get to central control.”

“No,” Chuck whispers.

“DO IT,” Burner Mike orders, and then they’re both running down the hallway toward the entrance to the room. Chuck slumps against the wall. He wants to scream. Ayana grabs his arm.

“I’ve got eyes on them,” she says. Chuck nods at her gratefully. She enlarges her screen to show the feed.

The room, like all the others, is white and stark, banks of machinery against the far end. The two Mikes are already back to back in the middle of the room, completely surrounded by the squadron of Elites. Burner Mike has his spark staff out and humming, Terra Mike has his crossbow raised, ready to fire. Chuck’s heart leaps into his throat.

“STAND DOWN,” booms a voice from above.

There’s an Elite standing on a catwalk above the center of the room. He has commander’s insignia on his collar. The other Elites freeze. Some of them look up. Their postures read startlement.

“Sir!” one calls. “We have them surrounded!”

“I’m not blind, Henderson,” says the commander. “I’m ordering you to stand down. There’s been some new developments. These people are no longer your concern.”

“I… think they are?” Henderson says.

The commander thumbs a button on his laser rifle and shoots Henderson in the chest. Henderson collapses bonelessly, sparks flying from her armor.

“Anyone else want to start questioning my orders? Help me troubleshoot my stun function?" The commander waves his rifle menacingly. "Stand down. Retreat to Gamma quadrant and wait for further instructions.”

The Elites back slowly away from Henderson’s limp body.

“Take her with you, you idiots!” the commander thunders.

Two of the Elites hastily hoist Henderson up by her arms and legs. The squadron retreats chaotically down the white hallway opposite the one Chuck and Ayana are hiding in, breathless. The two Mikes are left standing back to back in an empty room, only the commander on the catwalk above them.

“…What the heck?” Burner Mike says, looking up. Terra Mike swivels, points his crossbow suspiciously at the commander. The tip of his crossbow wavers when the commander lowers his laser rifle.

“Relax,” the commander says gruffly. “I didn’t kick your ass down a ventilation shaft just to shoot you now.”

Terra Mike lowers his crossbow.

 _“…Danzig?”_ he says incredulously.

Chuck has no idea what’s happening. All he knows is that the Mikes are alive and not captured. His knees give out and he falls over with a thump. Ayana grabs his arm, hauls him to his feet. They run down the hallway together, burst into the large room. The commander has descended from the catwalk and turns when they run in, startled. Terra Mike is still staring at the commander, looking stunned.

“Chuck?” Burner Mike says. “I thought I told you to get to central control!”

“You _idiots,”_ Chuck says angrily, shaking with relief.

 _“You’re_ an idiot,” Burner Mike retorts.

“So,” the commander says, crossing his arms, “tell me you have a plan.”


	24. The harder they fall

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: death, grievous bodily harm, and Kane being a dick

“Sorry, _who_ is this?” Ayana says suspiciously, pointing at the commander.

“Danzig. He saved me,” Terra Mike says. “When I was a kid.”

“Wait a minute.” Danzig looks between the Mikes, realization dawning. “So it was _you_ I pushed out the vent? And you’re the _clone?”_ He looks at Burner Mike, who nods. “Damn,” Danzig says, “I thought you got offed and the original Mike started playing rebel leader to tweak Kane. But you two _found_ each other? What a fuckin’ trip!” He turns back to Terra Mike. “Why are you wearing that mask?” he asks. Terra Mike pulls the mask off.

“Oh,” Danzig says. “Huh. What the fuck.”

“Look, there’s no time to explain,” Terra Mike says. “But… thank you. Why’d you do that? Order them to stand down?”

“Why the fuck did I save you the _first_ time?” Danzig says, glaring at both of the Mikes. “You’re nothing but trouble. You better have a hell of a good reason for being back up here.” Burner Mike grins at him.

“If we can get to communications central control, we’re going to broadcast a recording that’ll make Kane’s day _real_ bad. Might end him as CEO.”

Danzig stares at them. Then he shrugs. “I’m fucked now anyway,” he says. “Might as well try to take that bastard down with me. Let’s go.”

***

Danzig ushers them through the room while Chuck re-calibrates his maps, plotting them a new course. Ayana sends her bugs to scan the hallways ahead; so far, they’re clear of Elites. Chuck takes point, Ayana right behind him, everyone else following. Chuck can only keep track of the hallways because of his maps; everything is the same hideous white. They’re almost back to central control when Texas and Dutch skid around a corner behind them. Chuck turns around, shocked, as they come running down the hall. “Get out of the way!” Texas hollers, charging at them.

“What?” Chuck says. An Elite riding a laser cannon on an anti-grav dais turns the corner, points the barrel of the cannon right at him.

Chuck stares down the barrel of the laser cannon, frozen. Then someone slams into his side as it fires. Chuck’s vision goes white as the light blinds him. He lands hard on the floor. He blinks the spots out of his eyes in time to see Burner Mike leap up on the dais and slam his spark staff into the Elite’s head, knocking him out in one blow. The Elite slumps down over the laser cannon’s controls. Chuck scrambles to his hands and knees.

Terra Mike is lying on the floor beside him. Chuck pats at him frantically.

 _“Ow,”_ Terra Mike says, wincing, and Chuck feels like he might die from relief. Then he takes a closer look at Terra Mike and gasps. The laser cannon has vaporized his right leg below the knee. It’s cauterized, not bleeding; there’s a smell nauseatingly like cooking steak. “Oh, _shit,”_ Chuck says. Terra Mike sits up, looks at his leg, immediately lies back down.

“Fuck,” he says through gritted teeth. “Same leg again. Why the same leg.”

“Why did you _do_ that?” Chuck wails.

“I can… grow stuff back. You can’t. Dope,” Terra Mike rasps.

The laser cannon starts making a beeping noise. “It’s self-destructing!” Danzig yells. “Come on! We gotta move!”

“Texas! Get this guy!” Burner Mike pushes the Elite off the dais and rushes to Terra Mike, hauls him to his remaining foot. They get their arms slung over each other’s shoulders. Chuck grabs Terra Mike’s other arm, helping to support him, and they all start hobbling down the hallway, Danzig gesturing at them frantically from around the corner. Texas grabs the Elite and drags him down the hall, Dutch following. The whole group scrambles around the corner just as the laser cannon explodes, shaking the walls. Flames lick the opposite wall, smoke billowing. The alarm starts going off again. They’re finally in the central control hallway, across from that damnable door.

“Get the door open!” Burner Mike yells at Ayana. She runs across the hallway, kneels down in front of the keypad.

Belatedly, the sprinkler system comes on. Chuck looks up despairingly as drops of water hit his face, start soaking into his shirt.

Texas dumps the Elite, scowling at his unconscious body. “You owe me _big,”_ he mutters, poking at the man with his foot. “Texas is gonna _collect.”_

“Where the heck did you guys come from?” Burner Mike says to Dutch.

“We got made,” Dutch pants. “Tooley hid in a supply closet. Julie told us to head for central control. That guy with the freakin’ _cannon_ spotted us on the way.”

“Okay. Come on.” Burner Mike grips Terra Mike harder around the shoulders and pulls him across the hallway to Ayana, sets him against the wall. He slumps down to a seated position, wincing. Chuck runs over.

“Sorry, I need your coat,” he says apologetically. Terra Mike doesn’t ask questions, he just shrugs it off. “Help me,” Chuck says to Burner Mike, holding one end of the coat over Ayana. Mike sees what he’s trying to do and grabs the other end, sheltering her from the falling water as she taps at the door’s keypad, pulling up screens. “Thanks,” she says, not looking up, pulling a series of wires and small tools out of the pockets of her vest.

The onslaught of the sprinkler system quells the flames around the corner. Chuck coughs smoke out of his lungs. They’re all getting soaked. Terra Mike summons his crossbow and starts carefully wrapping vines around the stump below his knee, grimacing.

Julie’s icon pops up. “Kane is incoming,” she says urgently. “He’s got a squadron with him. They’re heading in your direction, ETA two minutes. Can you get the door open?”

“I’m gonna brute-force it,” Ayana says, ”but I need more time.”

“I’ll stall them,” Danzig says. He turns on his heel.

“Wait,” says Terra Mike. Danzig pauses, looks over his shoulder.

“What are you gonna do?” Terra Mike rasps.

“I have old debts, kid,” Danzig says. “They’re coming due. I’m gonna repay them.”

They regard each other for a second. Then Terra Mike nods.

“Thank you,” he says hoarsely. Danzig nods back. He sprints off around the corner down the wrecked hallway. The sprinkler system abruptly shuts off. Chuck and Burner Mike carefully lift the coat away from Ayana. Chuck hands it back to Terra Mike. He clutches it to his chest.

Ayana has disassembled the door keypad. She’s got it wired up to a long cord that ends in some kind of weird large jack that Chuck hasn’t seen before. “Okay, nobody bother me,” she says. Then she sticks the jack right in her ear.

“Oh, _nasty,”_ Texas says faintly. The lights in Ayana’s scalp start to pulse frantically.

It takes her two minutes and thirty-two seconds. It feels like an eternity. The alarm blaring in the background makes Chuck’s head ache. When the door finally snaps open, Burner Mike grabs Terra Mike and practically carries him through. Ayana disconnects herself, ushers the rest of them inside, and releases some more camera bugs into the hall. Then she shuts the door and starts tapping on the interior keypad. Chuck looks around.

It’s a large room, dominated by a huge round pillar in the center; a tank of bubbling water stretching from floor to ceiling, surrounded by data screens and a few empty cubicles. This is one of the quantum computers that runs Deluxe, the one responsible for comms and social media, the one that generates and monitors every screen in the city and houses the auto-censors that keep everyone on-message. Chuck quickly installs himself in a cubicle. It’s outfitted with screens and a input port. He slams the datastick into the port and starts typing furiously. Chuck knows these systems like the back of his hand. He cues up the transmission, makes sure the massive file is downloading into KaneCo’s databanks, and then sets up an all-screen override so that everyone in Deluxe will see it when it plays.

“Ayana, I want to see what’s going on with Danzig,” Terra Mike says urgently.

“On it,” Ayana replies. She’s finished with the door. She pulls up the feeds from her camera bugs, sends one zooming off down the hallways. It doesn’t have to fly that far before it locks onto an all-too-familiar face.

Kane is standing near the front of his squadron, an arm up. Danzig is blocking the hallway, holding his laser rifle leveled at the other Elites. The sound cuts in. The alarm has stopped blaring.

“...what he has to say,” Kane is saying. “Go on.” He nods at Danzig.

“What are you even doing?” Danzig says. His voice is tight. “With this city? What’s your grand plan? Why did you… You made me _do_ things. And I followed orders. Like a _chump._ So tell me. Tell me what I’ve been working for this whole time.”

“You’re working for Deluxe," Kane says, brow furrowed. “I'm making order out of chaos. Turning a dangerous, contaminated world into something pure. Something clean. Something safe.”

“I’ve been trying to believe that for years,” Danzig says. “But. I dream about them sometimes. Those kids.”

“What are you talking about?” Kane seems genuinely confused.

“The kids!” Danzig says, brandishing his laser rifle. “The kids you had cloned! You made me do your dirty work! Get rid of the originals!”

“I _improved_ them,” Kane says, brow still furrowed. “I made them better.”

“You made me _kill_ them,” Danzig says.

Kane waves a hand. “Details,” he says.

Danzig, without hesitation, shoots Kane. He hits him in the neck. Kane reels backwards.

“NO!” Terra Mike screams, before an answering hail of laser fire from Kane’s Elites bisects Danzig’s body. Chuck squeezes his eyes shut. Ayana gasps beside him. Burner Mike sucks in a breath. Chuck hears a thump that must be Danzig falling to the ground. Then, sickeningly, he hears a second thump as the rest of Danzig follows.

Chuck opens his eyes. Kane is still standing. He’s got a hand to his neck. He takes it away, revealing a smoking hole. A hole that starts to close before Chuck’s eyes. In a few seconds, it’s healed, like it never happened. Kane strides forward, looks down at Danzig’s body. He nudges it with his toe.

“Pathetic,” he says dismissively.

For a long, shocked moment, nothing happens in central control.

Then, in the silence, there’s a quiet ping.

The transmission has loaded.

Chuck startles, slams the key sequence to start the broadcast. All over Deluxe, viewscreens pop up unbidden, Chuck can see them as points of light. He had a stirring speech all prepared, but it flies out of his head. He just says the first words that come to mind.

“Deluxe,” he says, tears of rage springing to his eyes. “You’ve been lied to. Take a look at the _real_ Kane.” The footage starts to play. Chuck pulls up Deluxe’s carefully curated social media feeds. People are already starting to react, mostly with question marks. But they’re seeing it.

Chuck looks back at Ayana’s screen. The transmission is taking over the Elites’ visi-visors. Blinded, some of them stumble, bump into each other.

“TURN. THAT. OFF,” Kane roars. The Elites fumble with their visors. They regroup slowly. Kane looks around.

“I’m imagining you can hear this somehow, Burners,” he says angrily to the air. “Whatever you think you’re doing, you won’t live to see the results.” He turns back to his Elites. “They’re in communications central control. Let’s go!” he thunders. The Elites start marching down the hallway.

“Oh, wow,” Terra Mike rasps. “We’re _so_ boned.”

Ayana pulls up another screen, showing the door to central control and the hallway leading up to it. The first row of Elites comes around the corner, then the next, then the next. Chuck clutches Burner Mike’s hand helplessly.

There’s a shimmer in the air in front of the central control door. A silhouette solidifies out of nothing. A slim figure, in Deluxe colors, blue and white. The Elites stop, level their rifles. Kane storms around the corner. His eyes widen, shocked.

“HOLD YOUR FIRE!” Kane roars, raising a hand. “That is my EXECUTIVE INTERN, you incompetent nincompoops! If you harm a hair on her head I’ll have you terminated!” The Elites freeze. Some of them lower their rifles, uncertain.

Kane starts pushing his way forward, until he’s level with the first row of Elites.

Julie stands her ground, blocking the door to central control, arms spread wide.

“Julie,” Kane says, half-warning, half-pleading, “what are you doing?”

“You’re not going in this room,” Julie says.

“The Burners are in there,” Kane says. “I have them trapped like rats. I’m going to end this.”

“I don’t share your opinion of the Burners,” Julie says.

“Julie,” Kane says, disbelieving. “Chilton took you hostage.”

“That’s immaterial,” Julie says. “We’ve moved past it. Chilton is helping me now. I’m taking over this company.”

Kane starts. He narrows his eyes at her. “Excuse me?” he says.

“I know what you’ve done,” Julie says. “All of it. Everything in that transmission we’re broadcasting and more. I know what you did to Tooley. To Chilton. To those kids. I know what you’ve been doing to the people of Motorcity. No more. I’m putting an end to it. You were planning to make me CEO of KaneCo one day. Accelerate your plans. I want you to turn it over to me _now.”_

Kane raises his eyebrows. He barks out a single, disbelieving peal of laughter. Julie glares.

“Dad,” Julie says, “that video is damning. It’s a record of every cruel thing you’ve done, every lie you’ve told. The people of Deluxe won’t stand for it. You need to step down.”

“Julie,” Kane says warningly, “don’t be ridiculous. You’re barely eighteen. You expect me to just turn a megacorporation over to you? Do you think the people who rely on Deluxe will really _support_ this idiotic excuse for a coup? I can overcome a little bit of bad _press.”_ Chuck feels his stomach clench. Was this all for nothing after all? But Julie stands her ground, stone-faced.

“Maybe you should ask your board of directors,” she says.

“This is idiotic,” he says to Julie. “But I’ll humor you. Director Pinsky! Status report!” He pulls up a new screen. It shows a pale, grey-haired man. The man looks a little queasy. Chuck supposes he has good reason. A blond Ultra Elite has a gun to his head.

“Jenzen,” Julie says with a small smile. “How _are_ things.”

“The board’s getting a little rowdy up here, ma’am,” Jenzen says. “Good thing my squad never cared much for their brand of leadership. Using us as guinea pigs for untested booster tech? Shutting off our fear responses and sending us out to get killed? Bad move.” He presses the gun harder into the man’s temple.

“Well,” Kane says thoughtfully, “this is unexpected.”

Jenzen glares at him. “You never cared about any of us,” he says. “You gave me that whole song and dance about loyalty to Deluxe, and come to find out I’m a _clone?_ You _killed_ my original? You messed with my _head?”_ He shakes the grey-haired man. “When have you ever been loyal to _us?_ This ends now.”

“Sir,” says Director Pinsky, “I’m sorry. We were overrun.”

Kane pinches the bridge of his nose. “Utter… incompetence,” he mutters. He starts typing furiously. Then his screen makes a loud error noise, going red.

“You’re locked out, dad,” Julie says. “You can access the info library, but nothing else. We introduced a worm keyed to your personal system along with the video upload. I activated it a few minutes ago.”

Chuck raises his eyebrows at Ayana. “Did _you_ do that?” he whispers to her. She shrugs.

“Julie’s idea,” she whispers back.

 _Julie._ Julie had backups on top of backups. Chuck holds his breath.

Kane taps his screen a few more times, brow furrowed. It doesn’t respond. He looks up at Julie.

“You’re just digging yourself deeper into a hole, Julie-bear,” he says. He sounds a little sad. “I have a whole squad of Elites with network access. I can put down this little rebellion with a word or two.”

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you, dad,” Julie says. She also sounds sad. She pulls up a large screen, throws it up beside her. Chuck recognizes the man in the screen. It’s the director of R & D. He’s standing in front of a room full of techs.

“I didn’t want to do this,” she says. “But. You’re not giving me a choice. Director Banerjee. Tell him.”

“The research and development department supports the immediate appointment of Julie Kane as CEO,” the man says.

Kane raises his eyebrows. The R & D people in the background are all nodding.

“Oh, really?” Kane says. “How about I send some Elites in there to… clean house?”

The director swallows hard.

“If you do,” he says shakily, “we’re prepared to wipe and destroy every trace of your longevity project before they can set foot in the lab. And we re-engineered it to reverse itself on command. The shot we gave you yesterday was doctored. We can activate those nanos any time. You’ll be dead in…” He glances at a wrist screen. “Two minutes, tops.”

“Oh, _Julie,”_ Chuck whispers.

Kane’s eyes widen.

“You traitors,” he growls. “You’re bluffing! I’ll have every one of you terminated!”

“Try it and see what happens,” the director says grimly. “You ever seen someone die of accelerated aging? It’s not pretty.”

Kane slams a fist into his palm. “I don’t believe you for a second, you _coward,”_ he says. He turns to the Elite at the head of his squad. “Wrigley, get me…”

“Give him a demonstration,” Julie interrupts, lips tight. Kane’s head snaps up. Banerjee’s shaking fingers punch a button on a screen.

Kane _screams._

He doubles over, clutching himself around the stomach. His entire body seems to spasm, shaking. Some of the Elites raise their rifles again, pointing them at Julie; some in the back mill around uncertainly, trying to see. Kane raises a shaking hand, supporting himself with the other hand on his knee. The Elites freeze, watching him.

He stays doubled over for a long moment, breathing hard. When he finally straightens up, Chuck is shocked to see streaks of grey in his mustache. There are lines around his eyes that weren’t there before. He’s aged ten years in ten seconds.

“That was just a quick demo,” Julie says. She looks pained, but she continues coldly. “Imagine what would happen if we let it run its course.”

“You’ll pay for this!” Kane growls, panting. “You’re all filthy _backstabbers!”_

“Well,” Director Banerjee says defiantly, hands still shaking, “maybe you should have responded appropriately to my complaints!”

“Yeah!” yells a tech with a black eye in the background.

“You try to give any orders over someone else’s comms, we’ll activate the nanos,” Julie says. “You try to hurt me, we’ll activate the nanos. You try to... well. You get the point.”

Kane stares at her. She crosses her arms.

“You’ve... _betrayed_ me,” he says, incredulous. “My own daughter.”

“What can I say,” Julie says flatly. “I didn’t like the direction you were taking my company. Do it, dad. Transfer KaneCo to me. You can end this, right here, right now, without anyone else getting hurt.” She narrows her eyes at him. “Including you. One way or another, this company _is_ getting transferred to me. I’m giving you an easy way out.” Some of Kane’s Elites still have their laser rifles trained on her, but she seems unconcerned. She’s staring at Kane. They lock eyes.

“You… you dirty _traitor,”_ Kane says, voice a low growl. “You’re no better than _Chilton!_ What makes you think I won’t have my Elites shoot you down right now, consequences be damned?”

“You won’t,” Julie says, voice calm. “You’ve been holding on to life for three hundred years. You want to live. And.” She takes a breath, spreads her hands, palms up. “Despite everything. I’m still your _daughter._ You’re still my _dad.”_

There’s a long silence.

Then Kane starts to laugh.

It starts as a low chuckle and crescendos until he’s laughing like a madman, like a lunatic. He laughs uproariously, slapping his leg. Some of the Elites look at each other uncomfortably. Kane keeps laughing for a long time. Julie crosses her arms again and weathers it coolly.

“Stand down, stand down,” Kane says to his Elites when he catches his breath. They slowly lower their rifles. “Julie,” Kane says chidingly. “I’m surprised at you. So cutthroat. I didn’t think you had it in you.”

“I love you, dad,” Julie says quietly, “but that doesn’t mean you’re not a monster. And it doesn’t mean I won’t do what I have to do to keep you from hurting anyone else.”

To Chuck’s surprise, Kane’s eyes soften just a tiny fraction. Something that Chuck can’t even begin to understand passes between father and daughter. And Kane… smiles. It's a weird, sick smile. Chuck might even call it… proud.

"You take after your old man after all, Julie-bear," he says.

"Yeah," Julie says grimly. "In some ways, I guess I do.” There’s another long silence.

“I expect,” Kane says finally, “that you’ll need me to serve in an advisory capacity.” Julie’s shoulders lower almost imperceptibly.

“Yes,” Julie says, eyes narrow and intent, “that would be… acceptable. But your access to Deluxe’s systems will remain restricted. And you’ll be confined to KaneCo tower. Any move beyond that and we’ll activate the nanos.”

Kane sniffs haughtily. “I have everything I need in the tower. No reason to set foot outside it anyway.”

Julie nods. Kane turns to his screen.

“Director Pinsky,” Kane says, “this company is now under the leadership of my daughter, Julie Kane. You will follow her orders, do you understand?”

“But, sir…”

“I’d advise you to do what she says. This is to be a peaceful transfer of power. The future of the company depends on it.” Kane looks at Pinsky appraisingly. “Your _life_ might depend on it, as well. Jenzen doesn’t appear to be very happy with you.”

Pinsky hesitates, then raises his hands. “We surrender,” he says weakly.

“Jenzen,” Julie says crisply. “You’re promoted to director of security, effective immediately. Clean house. And detain the board of directors until further notice, excepting Banerjee. I’ll want to talk to them individually. We may need to do some hiring.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Jenzen says, saluting.

“I suggest you promote a cadet named Dar Gordy,” she says. “He supports the company’s new direction, and most of the cadet squad is loyal to him. He’ll be invaluable in vetting trustworthy security staff.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Jenzen says again. “I’m on it.” The screen flickers out.

“You.” Julie points to the Elite heading up Kane’s detail. “Your squad can escort my father back to his quarters. I expect all of you to continue keeping him safe. That means he’s not to set foot outside of KaneCo tower going forward. You saw what will happen to him if he does.”

The Elites seem unsure. They look at each other. Kane stretches out his hands.

“Well?” he says, furious and amused. “You heard her.”

The Elites turn to him. “Yes, sir,” the one in front says. “Come with us, please." They gather around Kane, and he strides down the hallway, towing them in his wake. They’re not so much escorting him as following him like ducklings.

He’s still _Kane,_ after all.

As soon as they round the corner, Julie slumps. Then she turns and starts pounding on the door. Ayana deactivates the lock and shuts down her viewscreen. They barely have time to turn around before the door slams open and Julie bursts into the room. She stands in the doorway, frantically seeks out each of them with her eyes in turn.

“You guys,” she whispers. “You guys are all… you’re alive. You’re all alive. Oh my god. I was so… I thought...” She stops, swallows.

“Erica,” Texas says proudly, “that was the most badass thing I have _ever_ seen.”

Julie collapses onto her knees, curls into herself. She screams into her hands. Then she starts sobbing. Texas runs to her. All the Burners follow, and gather her up. They hold her for a long time as she wails, clutching at them, crying years and _years_ worth of angry, grieving, exhausted tears.

***

Some indeterminate time later, they’re still on the floor in central control, leaning on each other in a pile. Terra Mike is propped up on Chuck. Burner Mike and Texas are supporting Julie. Dutch is back-to-back with Texas. Ayana is lying on the floor, staring at the ceiling, with her head on Dutch’s outstretched leg. Dutch has a screen out. He’s talking softly to Tennie.

“Yeah,” he says finally, “love you too.” He closes the screen.

“Julie,” he says to the ceiling, “wow. What the heck.”

Julie snorts. “I told you guys I had a lot of irons in the fire,” she says, voice weary.

“No kidding,” Dutch says.

“Are you… okay?" Burner Mike asks. "Is Red, um…” He trails off, brow furrowed.

“He’s incapacitated,” Julie says shortly. “Currently in stasis in medical. And he’s lucky to be there. I’ll deal with him later.” There's a short silence.

“You got Jenzen on our side,” Burner Mike says. “I didn’t expect to see _him_ again.”

“Jenzen was my Plan B,” Julie says. “I didn’t tell anyone about the Ultra Elites. They’ve been loyal to me ever since I broke the news to Jenzen about the boosters, and about himself.”

“How did you find out he was a clone?” Burner Mike asks.

“Tooley’s got executive access to his own files, for all the good it does him. He let me at them and I found more corrupted reports. There were only four of them that made it through the program, at least that I could find. Tooley, Jenzen, you, and a woman named Esperanza who was killed in action a few years ago.” She looks over her shoulder at Dutch. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” she says to him. “I was hedging my bets. I was hoping we could do this… more peacefully. That I wouldn’t have to use R & D.”

“Julie,” Dutch says, “you saved our asses.” He twists around, pushes Texas aside, and wraps her up in a long-armed hug. After awhile Texas pulls at Dutch’s shoulder, grumbling, “Move it, Stretch, I get hugs too, she’s MY lady-friend.”

“Excuse _you,”_ Julie says tartly. “You’re talking about the CEO of KaneCo.” Texas nudges Dutch out of the way and wraps his arms around Julie in his place.

“Yeah,” Texas says, “my _lady-friend_ the CEO. Hwa-CHA! Hey, does this mean I’m, like, first gentleman or something? Can I be your arm-candy at fancy parties? Texas looks pretty good in a tux.”

“Maybe if you behave yourself,” Julie says, a little squished in Texas’ embrace.

“Ka-chaw,” Texas says softly into her hair.

Burner Mike scoots over to where Chuck and Terra Mike are slumped against each other. He sits down across from them, leans forward. The other two lean forward to meet him, pressing their foreheads together.

“We’re okay,” Terra Mike says to him softly.

Chuck snorts. _“_ You’re definitely _not,”_ he says. “We should get you to medical. You’re missing an _entire_ leg.”

“I’m _fine._ It’s just _half_ a leg. And _you’re_ one to talk, Lefty.”

“Shut up, you guys,” Burner Mike says, putting his arms around them both. “Just. Shut up.” He’s smiling. There are tears in his eyes.

They’re _not_ okay.

But they will be.


	25. Picking up the pieces

On day one, protests erupt across Deluxe. Serious, mostly orderly groups of people in blue and white gather in common spaces, demanding safer housing structures and more accountable leadership. They become emboldened when no security comes to break them up. Most of the Deluxians who were involved in the “people ball” incident form a group and descend on the lobby of KaneCo tower to demand reparations. The social media feeds fill with horrified comments about various segments of the video transmission, and people start creating bulletin boards where they share stories about their own mistreatments at the hands of KaneCo. This time, the auto-censors don’t take them down; Ayana and Chuck make sure of that. Dutch is surprised to find out he’s not the only graffiti artist who’s gotten a beating from security. He decides to plan a meetup once things have calmed down. There are a lot of white walls in Deluxe.

Terra Mike insists on going to retrieve Danzig’s body as soon as he gets out of medical, swinging himself around on a pair of crutches. He wraps the body in vines, putting it back together as best he can. Burner Mike and Chuck find a bot to carry Danzig, and solemnly flank Terra Mike as he crutches along beside it. They bring the body to medical and hand it over to the coroner. Later, there will be time to find his family, if he had one, and to pay their respects. But for the moment, it’s the best they can do for the man who saved their lives.

R & D instantly adopts Ayana, and welcomes Chuck back like a prodigal son. Several of the techs immediately start designing him a new arm. He gets them to start examining Tooley, who Texas found still in the supply closet hours after everything had settled down outside. His prognosis is uncertain, and the techs accept his mumbled apologies with poor grace. But they can’t resist a challenge. They have some ideas.

On day two, Julie fires the entire board, except for Director Banerjee. She pulls Jacob and Dr. Hudson up from Motorcity and installs them as interim chair and co-chair, much to their surprise. Jenzen and his Ultra Elites rapidly reorganize. The cadets, led by a newly promoted Dar Gordy, form the backbone of the reformed security department. Dutch goes to visit Tennie and the Cablers for awhile. Chuck is pleased to see Mike’s healing abilities in action; his leg is starting to grow back already. He complains constantly about the itching. The protests continue. An encampment of housing pods starts growing outside KaneCo tower. People are demanding answers. KaneCo remains silent. Some of the rowdier Deluxians join the “people ball” crowd still in the lobby and try to storm the stairs to Kane’s office. The cadets de-escalate the situation by promising everyone that an announcement will be forthcoming as soon as possible. The Deluxians subside. They don’t have a lot of practice being rebellious, after all.

R & D watches Kane. Kane stays in his tower. And Deluxe… keeps running. It’s a megalith, almost an organism of its own; the harvester bots harvest soybeans outside the dome, the throat cube factory keeps pumping out throat cubes, the filtration system keeps sucking water in from Lake Huron, the turbines and solar panels keep the lights on and the anti-grav generators running. Despite the upheaval and unrest among the people living inside it, everything in Deluxe stays… surprisingly the same. The only difference is, everyone is free. They just don’t know it yet.

Down in Motorcity, rumors fly. Burner Mike contacts Rayon, and Rayon spreads the word to the gangs, who spread it throughout the city; Deluxe is under new leadership. Most of the Motorcitizens receive this news with their usual skepticism. If there’s going to be peace, they’ll believe it when they see it. But in some corners of the city, Julie Kane’s name becomes a talisman of hope. In the Terra village, Rall starts packing a bag for the days-long trip to Cleveland. Kaia’s going to want to hear about this.

On day three, Julie meets with Kane. She insists on going in alone. Burner Mike and Texas camp out in the hallway outside Kane’s office until she emerges, pale but composed. She says Kane is ready to make an official announcement. The usual notifications go out, over the usual channels. Julie gets the Burners an executive housing pod to watch from, floating a few feet above the white plain of the central square outside KaneCo tower. A huge throng is gathered, some people in housing pods, some standing in the open, waiting to get a sense of the shape of the future.

When Chuck and the two Mikes clamber up the steps to the pod, there’s already a small crowd inside. Dutch and Tennie, Dutch’s parents, and Dar are taking up one corner. Claire’s parents are in the other corner, looking a little intimidated by Bracket. Texas and Ayana are taking up a lot of space in the middle of the room, playing a screen game together while they wait for the announcement to start. Chuck, just out of habit, is a little flustered when he sees Claire, standing in the back with Foxy. He waves at her, and she rolls her eyes. Wait, shoot. He’s totally not hitting on her anymore! To make the situation clear, Chuck pulls Mike in and kisses him. Then, just to be fair, he kisses the other Mike. 

“What was  _ that _ for?” Burner Mike asks. Chuck shrugs. When he glances back at Claire, her eyebrows are up in her hairline. She gives him a sort of weird, smirky look. Then she kisses Foxy. Nice. Chuck gives her a covert thumbs up. She starts giggling. Looks like they’re both doing pretty well for themselves. He and the Mikes settle in next to Texas and Ayana, who shut off their game. They all watch the seconds count down.

At the appointed time, and not a moment before, a massive screen pops up over the central square. Kane’s familiar visage looms huge over the city, but something’s gone out of it. Some keenness to his grin, some sharpness to his eyes. He’s still larger than life. But he looks… dulled. A knife without an edge.

“Hello, Deluxe,” Kane says. “Today’s announcement is one that I wish I didn’t have to make. But. I’m afraid I have no choice. By now you have all seen the record of my… past actions. For which I can only say: I have regrets.” He glares at the screen. “I realize that many of you have... concerns. Deluxe will work to address your concerns going forward. All I ever wanted was a clean, peaceful, tranquil city, filled with content, happy citizens. I can’t abide being the cause of such unrest. Therefore, I am announcing my retirement.”

There’s a murmur from the crowd. Kane continues. 

“But I am not leaving you without leadership. Don’t worry. I’ve been training my replacement, who will take over, effective immediately, as CEO. She is someone who I believe will manage Deluxe with the firm and fair hand you’ve all come to expect. I would like to introduce… my daughter. My successor. The face… of the new Deluxe." The screen flickers on his bitter expression, cuts away.

And there's Julie, projected huge over the towers of the city. She looks calm, serious. Powerful. She's wearing her Deluxe uniform. The collar is popped. Chuck breaks into a wide smile. Texas whoops, punching the air.

"Hello, Deluxe." Julie's familiar voice, ringing out across the vast white spaces. "This is Julie Kane speaking. Successor to Abraham Kane. CEO of KaneCo. I have some important announcements to make." 

Then the corner of her mouth quirks up. 

"There are going to be a  _ lot _ of changes around here.”

Claire shrieks happily.


	26. Epilogue: two months later

Mike wakes up. He feels warm, comfortable, _safe_. He smiles. It's because of the long, slender body pressed against his back. Chuck. He rolls over carefully to look at him. Chuck is sprawled out on the bed, mouth open, snoring softly. Possibly he's drooling a little. God, he's so _cute._

On Chuck's other side, Burner Mike makes a small noise, twitches in his sleep. Mike. The stolen piece of himself, found again. But not a stolen piece anymore; his own person, with his own life.

Seeing himself from the _outside_ —how _good_ he is, caring, kind, brave, despite everything Kane did to him—has healed some of the deep hurt, the sense of unworthiness that's haunted him ever since he was cast out of Deluxe. He _likes_ Mike. So he likes himself, now, too.

Mike twitches again, grimaces, makes a hurt sound. Mike frowns, reaches across Chuck, and gently shakes the other Mike by the shoulder. He wakes, startled, looks around. He relaxes when he comes fully awake, sees where he is.

"Sorry, bro, you were having a nightmare," Mike says softly. Mike scrubs a hand over his face.

"Ugh," he says. "Yeah. It was the one with the bugs."

 _"Ugh,"_ Mike echoes. "I hate that one." He squeezes Mike's shoulder. Mike smiles at him ruefully.

"Let's think about something else," he says. When one of them has a bad dream, the other usually tries a quick distraction.

Mike can think of a _really good_ distraction right now. He casts a meaningful glance at Chuck, snoring in between them.

"Should we wake him up?" he whispers conspiratorially. "See how much we can make him blush?"

"Oh! Uh. Yeah! Totally!"

It's really cute how flustered the other Mike still gets about sex stuff, even after all this time. Mike knows he himself is probably the horniest one in this relationship; that's okay. He and the other Mike balance each other out in a lot of ways. This is just one of them.

Mike leans over, kisses Chuck softly on his open mouth. Chuck makes a small happy noise, starts to wake up. His eyes flutter open. They're so blue. Mike cups Chuck's face gently, running a thumb along his sharp cheekbone, across his freckles.

"Good morning," Mike says.

And it is.

**Author's Note:**

> Stop what you are doing immediately and look at this incredible art of the two Mikes: http://livelivefastfree.tumblr.com/post/179636848101/serotoninshift-said-to-livelivefastfree-thanks


End file.
